Song of the Chimera
by spitenmalice
Summary: Castiel enlists the aid of Sam, Dean, and Bobby to eradicate a hybrid abomination that Crowley has big plans for. Their plans are laid to waste however when the "abomination" isn't exactly what they expected. Castiel/OC . Occurs sometime after Sam gets his soul back...mostly because I wanted Bobby to be included in the story alive and kicking. : )
1. Chapter 1

Hello all…thought I'd give writing fan fiction a try. I do not own supernatural. I plan to update at least biweekly…more if I can manage. This story will jump off from the general vicinity of the plot point where Sam gets his soul back. I plan to stay true to all history laid down before that point. However, where this story begins, I'll start to diverge from the more current seasons (not that I don't love them, because they are awesome! I just want to try to be as original as possible from that point) and create my own story arc. I welcome constructive criticism, but be respectful please. Bear with me as I lay the foundation in the first few chapters, my OC will make her appearance soon.

Chapter 1

"Hello Dean."

Dean Winchester jerked, cracking his head on a pipe. Castiel knelt next to the hunter.

"Son of a Bitch Cass! What have we said about popping in and out?" Dean slid out from under Bobbie Singers sink, clutching his forehead, "I'm starting to think you're trying to give me an early heart attack."

Castiel blinked, "I assure you, inciting cardiac arrest is not among my missions at present. Besides…" The angel poked at a half eaten hamburger oozing cheese and grease that lay next to Dean"…you seem to be well on your way to managing the feat without my assistance."

Dean glowered ominously at Cass, snatching the burger off the plate and taking a massive mouthful. "Bife me."

Castiel frowned, "I believe that would be most uncomfortable." Not missing a beat, the angel moved on, "In any case, your penchant for red meat and grease is not what I have come to discuss. I have received troubling information of which I require your assistance."

The hunter shook his head. "Arf nofe Caftiel…" His cheeks were still puffed with half eaten burger, so Dean held up a finger as he finished chewing. Swallowing, he tried again, " Oh no Castiel! This is our first lull in months. Sammy just got his damned soul back for god's sake! The man needs some R and R. Just one weekend off, is that so much to ask?!"

Cass peered under the sink. His brows knit together in a strange dichotomy of detachment and interest. "I do not understand, you enjoy lounging beneath cupboards in your spare time?"

Dean stood, and kicked at a pipe under the sink. "I prefer a hot woman and a bottle of Jack; but Bobby's been so damn busy lately that this house is crumbling around our ears. The sink is leaking like friggin' Niagra falls, the roof is well on its way to having more holes than shingles, and Sammy nearly busted a leg yesterday when one of the stairs gave out."

As if on cue, Sam limped into the kitchen with a hammer in one hand and a 2x4 in the other, "Dean, do you have the nails… Cass, I didn't know you were here."

"I arrived only moments ago. I have, troubling news."

"News huh? Don't suppose it's that world peace has been achieved?" Bobby walked in behind Sam, dropping what appeared to be a rotted shingle on the counter. "Roof can wait. If I'd of had a hankerin' to be a carpenter I wouldn't of took up huntin'."

Sam looked just as relieved, "Thank god, let's do some real work." He tossed the hammer next to the abandoned shingle.

That left Dean. Cass, Sam, and Bobby turned to eye him expectantly. The angel was rather proud of himself when he realized Dean's reluctance came not out of want to dismiss Cass's request for aid, but rather an overpowering concern for his little brother. Cass also recalled Dean had spent time laboring as a menial worker while living with Ben and Lisa. Perhaps this sink-work reminded the hunter of what he had so recently lost. Nostalgia, Castiel believed the humans called it.

Dean eyed the two eager stares and one expectant one with a grimace. He tossed down the wrench, puffing out his cheeks in exasperation. "Alright, fine! But don't come crying to me when the roof comes down around our ears." Even Cas could tell that Deans bluster was halfhearted at best. Curiosity and his hunter's drive had already kicked in. "What've you got Cass?"

Castiel nodded in approval, "This is good. I suggest we convene in Bobby's study."

The hunters blinked at the spot where Castiel stood moments before.

Bobby frowned, "What the…"

Dean rolled his eyes, "The study."

The three men made their way out of the kitchen. Bobbies grumbling accompanied their short trek the entire way, "Angel idgit couldn't of walked the 10 feet like a normal sumbitch?"

Sure enough, Cass hovered next to a bookshelf waiting expectantly. Sam raised his eyebrows, noting how the angel absently picked up various hunter trinkets from a shelf and placed them back just as quickly. Obviously not out of interest, but rather the need to do something. The angel almost never fidgeted, which meant that whatever he had to say must be important.

"All right Cass, let's hear the big news." Dean slumped into a chair, throwing his booted feet onto the paper and book strewn top of Bobby's desk.

"It has come to my attention that the demons have acquired a being of which we have never encountered before. It's abilities are not completely known, but as I understand, it has the potential to be very powerful. Certainly dangerous whilst under Crowley's influence."

Sam shifted. His eyes narrowed in interest, "Dangerous how Cass? You're being a little vague."

Castiel sighed, a human mannerism he had grown fond of, "My information is limited. What I know is that this being is an abomination in every sense of the word. An experiment, if you will…as Sam was. Apparently, the yellow-eyed demon did not limit his manipulations to that of the chosen. Several years after creating the chosen, he conducted a series of experiments in which he infused the blood of other creatures into children."

Bobby swore, "Shit, you mean he made a monster hybrid? Hell, Eve was tryin' that shit before we ganked her. Those...ah…"

"…Jefferson Starships…" Dean injected helpfully.

"…were downright nasty." Bobby finished, knocking Deans feet off the desk with an irritated scowl.

Castiel nodded, "Yes. And unlike Sam, who ingested only a few drops of demon blood, it is rumored that this child was recipient to a vast array of monster DNA. I do not know what the result was. What I do know is that Crowley has taken an interest in this abomination. The melding of species is exceedingly difficult. As far as I know, this creature was the only successful result. However, if Crowley discovers how to recreate the process…he could potentially create an army of hybrids with…unsavory qualities."

"You're sayin' we have to kill it." Dean declared matter-of-factly. "Allrighty then, let's find out where Crowley's got the thing shacked up and gank it.

Castiel held up a staying hand, "There is more. Even without the manipulation, this child had an extraordinarily rare makeup...traits of which I expect contributed to it being the only successful result of Azazel's experimentation.

Bobby threw up his hands, "Well, out with it feather-butt, what kind of makeup we talkin' about here?"

Cass looked out the dingy study window to the lot beyond. His jaw ticked, "You remember Anna? She tore out her Grace, Fell from heaven, and then grew as a normal human female to adulthood. She has not been the only angel to fall and live among you. The child was conceived between the mating of one such angel and a human male. However, the mother was captured whilst the child was still in the womb and made to drink demon blood, thus further altering the fetus's genetic makeup."

Bobbie whistled, "Balls. Are you tellin' me that the kid popped out equal parts human, demon, and fallen angel? And that's before Yellow Eyes decided to add even more creatures into the genetic cocktail?"

Castiel nodded, "Yes. However, the mother found her grace shortly before conception, which means that there is no telling how much power was passed to the fetus."

"Well don't this just git better an' better" Bobby grumbled.

"This thing's got to be one messed up monster." Dean Finally muttered under his breath.

…**Supernatural…**

_She was tired. Tired of the cold. Tired of the dark. And so very tired of the Pain. _


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Supernatural. Comments and critiques are welcome if you are so inclined. : )

Chapter 2

"The creature has been with the demons for nearly 2 years. They obtained it before the apocalypse, and when Lucifer rose Crowley put his plans on indefinite hold. However, now that things have settled down…" Castiel trailed off.

"The Old buzzard has started up with his plans again." Bobby finished.

Castiel nodded, "That is why only now this information has surfaced."

"So how do we kill it?" Dean asked, twirling the knife absently.

Cass pursed his lips, "It is my hope that between an angel blade and the demon blade, one or both will work. The information I have managed to gather is sorely lacking...if you choose to help me, you should know we will be going in practically blind."

Sam shrugged, "We've had worse. So where do we find this thing?"

"The creature is at an abandoned warehouse complex outside of Des Moines, Iowa. We have one advantage; Crowley does not know we have learned of this. The element of surprise is ours. There will still be plenty of demon spawn to fight through however, which is why I wished to enlist your aid."

"We're in." The three hunters chimed at once.

…..SUPERNATURAL

"Dag blasted fence. I can't see a damn thing!" Bobby grumbled as he squinted through the darkness. The hunter was trying to cut a hole in the wire fence surrounding Crowley's warehouse.

"Having some problems with your night vision in your old age…gramps?" Dean grinned behind him.

"Shut yer mouth ya idgit. There ain't anything wrong with my sight. But why in hell Castiel had to pick a moonless night to kill this thing is beyond me."

With one last cut, Bobby grunted in triumph. Sam and Dean grabbed the gaping wire and peeled it back. Sam slapped Bobby on the back and crawled through, "Element of surprise old man, element of surprise."

Dean followed suit, "C'mon Bobby, lighten up…We're like ninjas…this could be fun."

Bobbies only answer was to let loose a string of profanity under his breath as he crawled through.

The hunters righted themselves and looked around. Dean rocked back on his heels and hooked his thumbs into his pockets, "So…"

"Castiel said he'd scout out an entrance to let us in." Sam shrugged.

Bobby snatched up his hat, which had fallen off when he crawled through. He slapped it against his thigh, clearing the dust. "Yeah, well he could have beamed us INSIDE the fence before poofing out, don't ya think?"

The three hunters crouched low and ran toward the giant complex. Dean barely contained a yelp of surprise when Castiel materialized in front of him.

"Jeezus! What did I tell you about zapping in without warning?"

Catiels face remained impassive, "My name is Castiel Dean, I am of no relation to the prophet."

Sam jogged up to the two of them, followed by Bobby, "So did you find an entrance?"

"The south side is unguarded from the outside. I was able to unlatch the door. However, there are enochian sigils barring me from further action. You will have to dispense of them in order for me to assist."

Dean nodded, "So does your spidey-sense tell you anything about what we can expect once we're in?"

Cass tilted his head in puzzlement, "Arachnids did not assist me Dean. I sense at least a dozen demons scattered throughout the premises, and that of one being I have not encountered. I presume it to be our target."

"You know where it is?" Sam eyed the giant building, grimacing at its formidable size.

Castiel shook his head, "The sigils are skewing my perception. I expect it to become clearer once you dispense of them."

Bobby cocked his gun, "We gonna stand here yapping like a bunch of women all night, or are we going to get this done?"

SUPERNATURAL

Time had long since lost meaning. It seemed like it been an eternity since she had last seen the sun, the moon, the stars. There was only cold and dim artificial light now. She supposed it was better than the absolute darkness that had been her only company until recently. Then of course, there was the pain and black eyed cruelty that laughed in glee as it inflicted its many tortures over and over. Aiyla was so very tired.

SUPERNATURAL

"Where the hell are we heading Cass?!" Dean yelled across the room, wrestling a demon for Ruby's knife.

The angel warily circled another demon who had managed to acquire an angel blade. "North! The presence emanates from the North!"

"Goddammit, of course we had to pick ourselves the southernmost entrance of this giant ass complex!" Bobby shouted, splashing holy water into the face of a demon. Sam took advantage of the Demon's distracted howl of pain. He approached it from behind and recited an exorcism in a flurry of Latin. The demon screamed in fury, smoking out and whirling high into the rafters, before disappearing from sight.

Dean finally managed to break the demon's hold and wasted no time plunging the knife into the demon's chest. He yanked the blade out as fast as he had thrust it in and tossed it to Sam. Sam caught it and whirled to plunge it into the heart of another demon who rapidly approached from his flank.

Castiel reappeared behind his own foe, choke holding it with one arm as he reached around and smited it with his free hand.

Dean sagged against a grimy cement beam, breathing hard. "That's six demons we've done in so far…six to go." He held his left side, grimacing against the burning pain of a knife wound.

Sam gasped as he rammed his right shoulder against another beam, popping it back into its socket. "Not including our mystery monster at the end."

Castiel approached Bobby, who bled heavily from a gash on his forehead. "I will clear the way. I sense five of the six gathered several hallways down. He touched a hand to the old hunter's forehead.

"Oh goody, more hallways. This place is a fricken' maze. I feel like a goddamned hamster lookin' for the big cheese." Bobby raised his hand to his head, feeling the newly healed flesh in approval.

Cass approached Dean next. "Find the creature; I'll join you as soon as I finish dispensing with the demons. If you get the chance, kill it." He healed Dean and then disappeared.

Sam picked up the angel blade one of the demons had dropped, "Time to find the cheese."

SUPERNATURAL

Aiyla's screams of agony had lost their piercing resonance long ago. Her voice was almost nonexistent. Her vocal cords had been pushed beyond all endurance. She could barely manage a whimper now. If she had to guess, she had been here for roughly a week…but it was difficult to judge time when trapped within in a cold, unnatural place of metal and concrete. She missed the cool touch of a breeze on her skin and the glittering softness of moonlight on water. She longed to feel earth beneath her feet and hear the gentle melody of birdsong. She would gladly die for just a few moments to feel the sun heating her skin.

There had been three of them so far…her tormentors. The first had been a shuffling grandmother with a sewing basket nestled in the crook of her arm. She had smelled of gingersnap cookies and sulphur, and looked like she would enjoy knitting by a warm fire with a cat nestled at her feet. It turned out the only thing she had enjoyed knitting was sick patterns into Aiyla's thighs.

The next was a cherub cheeked little girl no more than six years old. She trailed a jump rope behind her and chewed on a licorice stick. However, this child did not jump with the rope; she snapped it with inhuman strength until Aiyla's back was a roadmap of bloody lacerations.

Yesterday a middle aged man wearing wire rimmed glasses, a tweed suit and bowtie arrived. Under one arm, he had carried a crisp new book. He didn't bother to read it. Instead, he tore out page after page and sliced her arms deeper than she ever thought mere paper could manage. All 398 pages worth. She had counted.

Each tormenter was different, and yet all so very similar. Every one sported the black soulless eyes of the damned and a unique penchant for cruelty that knew no bounds. After each torture session Crowley appeared. He tempted her with his deceptively soothing gruff voice and buttery smooth promises of no more pain; of sunshine and clean air and beautiful things. She had only to cooperate and allow him her soul. He called her Child of the Triad. She didn't know what that meant, but Crowley obviously believed it made her soul very special. She refused his offer after every encounter. But it was getting harder to say no and that terrified Aiyla as nothing else could. Pressing her cheek to the cold cement floor she lay on, Aiyla thought back over the past two years…

She had just barely turned seventeen when he had taken her from everything she held dear. At first he had been cordial, placing her in a beautiful room with beautiful things and telling her lie after lie about only wanting to keep her safe and needing her help. She saw right through his deception. Ever since she was a child, she had been able to detect deceit. To her, falsehoods were almost tangible in form. She could physically taste the acrid bitterness that deceit and pretense shed in her presence. After several weeks of her refusals, Crowley snapped. He snatched her by the hair and marched her to the edge of a large cylindrical concrete pit, threatening to leave her there until she submitted to his demands. She refused again. He made good on his promise, throwing her into the dark cavity. And there she'd stayed for almost a year and a half.

At first, he came weekly to ask her if she was ready to give him her soul…but then after a month or so Crowley went into hiding…and he forgot about her. Her only companion was a demon caretaker named Antoinette who occasionally remembered to provide Aiyla with food and water. Antoinette was as sadistic as any demon…however she also kept Aiyla from slipping into insanity. Demons did not take well to boredom and monotony, and Aiyla quickly realized Antoinette was not happy babysitting the Child of the Triad.

When the bored demon was not busy venting her frustration by beating on Aiyla, she would pass the time talking incessantly. Aiyla was convinced Antoinette was in love with the sound of her own voice. But Aiyla found some comfort in the times Antoinette would spin tales and relay news of the outside world. It was through Antoinette that Aiyla learned of the apocalypse and Crowley's subsequent fall from rank. She had smiled when Antoinette fretted he had been forced deep underground to avoid Lucifer's wrath. She had waited for the apocalypse with a feverish hope…having realized her only escape from this earthly hell would be through death. But even death was denied to her. The apocalypse was derailed, Antoinette told her, by two brothers, a fallen angel, and an old drunk. Antoinette spoke of them often, and always with contempt. But beneath the demon's bitter hatred of the heroes, Aiyla detected a deep seated fear and grudging respect. With Lucifer back in the pit, Antoinette spoke excitedly of Crowley's new position as king of hell. Still, months went by and Crowley never came. Aiyla began to think he had forgotten her, and she was doomed to spend eternity listening to Antoinette drone on and on. Then, just last week, the Hell King renewed his interest in her.

.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own supernatural : P

Chapter 3

"We've got to be close," Dean huffed, "We've been hoofing it North for a good fifteen minutes."

Sam turned a corner, in the lead. "Hopefully Cass will catch up soon and then we can…"

Maniacal laughter stopped the hunters short. The three men turned toward the sound echoing ominously off the walls. Sam jerked his head in the direction of the resonance. The laughter quickly led them to a heavy steel door.

SUPERNATURAL

Tears streamed down Ayla's face and a hoarse whimper escaped her throat. Today, her demon tormentor was a huge muscle bound giant with a handlebar mustache and a cruel grin. His torture held far less finesse than that of his predecessors. He had already snapped her left wrist like it was a toothpick, and now he held her right ankle between his two paws. Slowly, oh so slowly, he twisted.

"Don't know what the boss sees in a pathetic bit of female such as yoself. Waste of time if you ask me…tryin' ta turn ya complacent. We already got that special blood of yours…who cares about one lousy sou…"

The heavy steel door across the room blasted open, slamming against the concrete wall with a resounding crash. Both Aiyla and the demon jerked in surprise. The demon lost control of the artful line he had toed between the mere infliction of pain and actual breaking. Her ankle snapped instantly. Black shadows encroached on her vision and fog threatened to pull her into the painless escape of oblivion. She fought the temptation to give in to the shade's seductive call, focusing instead on the scene unfolding before her.

The outline of three men loomed in the doorway. Light from the brighter lit hallway forced Aiyla to squint her suddenly watering eyes to make out their faces. One man whistled in appreciation as he assessed the giant mammoth before him. "Holy hell. Well it looks like somebody's been eating their spinach."

Aiyla didn't know what spinach had to do with anything, however she deduced his meaning and certainly could not argue. Her tormentor was nearly seven feet tall, with muscles on top of his muscles.

A man wearing a battered ball-cap and wielding a sawed off shot-gun spit on the ground, "I think we found our abomination. Time to kill the Hulk."

The tallest of the three readied a wicked looking knife and glanced to where she lay, "You like hurting girls who can't fight back you overgrown sack of steroids?"

The creature simply flexed its biceps and grinned, "I take what I can get. Of course you three look to be a mite more entertainin.' Let's have a go, what do ya say?"

He charged the green-eyed man, throwing him into the wall as if he weighed no more than a child. She winced in sympathy, knowing first-hand the force of his bone-crunching strength. The remaining two men stood in shocked silence for a brief moment…and then all hell broke loose.

SUPERNATURAL

Bobby let loose a round of buckshot and salt. The mixture blasted against the big man's back, but the beast simply growled in annoyance. Rolling his massive shoulders, he slowly turned to the hunter. He whipped out a meaty paw with a lightning fast speed that belied his lumbering size, and snatched the gun from Bobby's grip. Simultaneously, he planted a heavy booted foot in Sam's chest. Sam flew backward. His rapid momentum sent him crashing into a wall nearly 8 feet away where he slumped to the floor, stunned. Ruby's knife skittered across the room, landing near Dean's slumped form. Dismissing Sam for the moment, the giant grinned and turned his attention back to Bobby.

He advanced slowly, barely pausing when another blast of rock-salt hit him full in the chest. Looking down, he poked his finger through one of the many holes that riddled his shirt. "Ouch that stings…and look, you've ruined my favorite torturin' shirt."

Bobby backed up blindly, eyes wide. "Now let's not, arghrhhh…"

The giant cut off Bobby's words, whipping out his arm to clench around the hunter's throat. Bobby's face quickly began to turn red and then purple as he suddenly found himself hoisted off the floor.  
"Snapping yer neck is gonna be so much more satisfyin' than snappin some puny females bo…"

"No more bone cracking for you Andre!" Dean leapt onto the giants back and plunged the Demon blade into his neck. The beast roared in fury and pain. Rearing backwards, he slammed the hunter into a concrete pillar. Dean gasped, as the air forcefully escaped his lungs, but held on. He wrenched the blade out of his foe's neck and twirled it in his grip. The new hold allowed him to thrust the knife up into the vulnerable skin of the monsters lower jaw. Shock blinked in and out between the red static like flashes emanating beneath the creatures meat-suit. "That has to kill you." Dean panted in triumph.

The creature gave one last livid roar, and then the hellfire's that smoldered beneath his skin blinked out. Dean's grin of relief quickly turned to one of panic when the monster careened backward. Like a giant redwood felled by a lumberjack, the brute went down, taking the hunter with him in a resounding thud. Dean lay leveled between the colossal weight of his dead adversary and the unforgiving concrete of the floor. Moaning, he raised his head and coughed pitifully, "Timber." He closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto the concrete.

Sam lurched to his feet with a groan, shaking his head to clear the fog "Bobby, you ok?"

The old hunter, had landed on his backside the moment Dean plunged the knife into their foes neck. He remained seated, sucking air in greedily. "Damn fool Godzilla nearly crushed my windpipe."

"Guys…A little help?" Dean wheezed beneath the giant.

Sam and Bobby stumbled over to him and groaned with effort, rolling the dead mammoth off Dean's prostrate form.

"How are you doing?" Sam clasped Dean by the arm, hoisting him to his feet.

Dean sucked in a pained breath, his voice a little higher than normal, "Well, it's not every day you get leveled by Godzilla, but all things considered I think I'm good." He tried to straighten, but gasped, clutching at his side, " I think that damned freak cracked my ribs."

Sam's face grew shadowy, "You going to be ok?"

Dean nodded, waving Sam toward the girl that lay huddled in the corner. "I'll be fine, so long as Cass get's his feathery ass over hear at some point to fix me up."

Bobby rubbed his behind, glaring at their fallen adversary. "Well, all things considered, that could have went way worsen' it did. For a genetic cocktail, it sure didn't take much to fell the thing. I think I've went up against Wendigo's harder to kill than this dumb shit." He kicked at the creature's foot for emphasis.

Dean glowered at Bobby, "Speak for yourself old man." He cast the monster one last murderous stare and then shrugged and limped painfully behind Sam toward the human cowering in the corner. "Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth huh? I'm not complaining."

Focusing their attention on the girl, the hunter's expressions darkened to murderous.

"Hells bells." Bobby breathed.

Grime covered the girl from head to toe. Long snarled hair of an indistinguishable color fell clear the floor and pooled on the ground where she lay slumped against the cold stone of the wall. It was almost impossible to guess at her age. Her stature was small…and curled in on herself as she was… she appeared childlike. However, the gentle fullness of her hips and undeniable curvature of her chest suggested she was older than she appeared. A heavy iron collar enclosed a delicate neck, and the skin beneath it looked raw and inflamed. A weighty chain attached to the metal and trailed onto the ground where it linked with a bracket cemented into the floor. Her only protection from the biting frigidity of the air was a threadbare sundress that looked like it might have started out white. Now, thanks to the copious amounts of blood and grime that covered it, it more closely resembled a sick version of tie-dye. Her right ankle was double the size of it's twin. She cradled her left wrist against her chest, which had obviously suffered a similar fate. Blood trickled from her hairline and the corner of her mouth, while long thin cuts riddled her arms.

Shaking off his shock, Sam took another step toward her, squinting to distinguish the shadows from the girl. He stopped short when she let out a mewling cry and curled tighter in on herself in fright.

"Shit, look at her legs."

Dean squinted, and his eyebrows slammed together in perplexed outrage, "Is that…yarn?!"

The flesh of each of her thighs sported a neat crisscross pattern of stitching that extended nearly to her knees. HerThe flesh pulled tight around the stitches and appeared red and angry with inflammation. Sam knelt down; hoping the substantial decrease in height would prove far less intimidating. He reached out a cautious hand, "Listen, we're not going to hurt you, I promise. We just want to get you out of here." The female shuddered, but kept her eyes downcast. Every rigid line of her body spoke of wary disbelief.

Sam tried again, "We just want to get you some help ok? We're hunters. My name's Sam Winchester and that's my brother Dean." Sam paused. The girl had darted her eyes up for split second. The rigidity of her body eased infinitesimally. The hunters exchanged glances; perhaps the demons had dropped their names at some point in her presence. She definitely recognized the name Winchester. Sam continued, "The old guy over there is Bobby Singer." Bobby remained at a respectful distance, not wanting to crowd her anymore than she already was.

Dean slowly moved forward, "Listen sweetheart, you're hurt bad and there's probably going to be more demons showing up soon. We just want to get you safe before that happens. Do you understand?"

The female graced them with the barest of nods. Reaching with her unbroken arm, she touched a shaking hand to the cold metal that circled her throat. Dean eased forward…approaching her as one would a cornered animal. His every move was slow and deliberate, giving her plenty of time to process and accept his intent. He gingerly touched his hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at the collar. "Damn, it's been soldered together. How in hell are we supposed to…"

Dean snapped his mouth shut. A hint of life lit into the girl. Seeming to notice the pained way he held his ribs, she raised her head. The hunters were taken aback as they got their first real look into the crystalline purity of her eyes. The innocence and clarity of her jewel bright gaze was absolutely striking, particularly in contrast to the dingy, gray pallor of her face. Her eyes widened in distress, focusing intently on where Dean clutched at his ribs. She captured Dean's gaze with her own, reaching out a delicate hand to touch his cheek with a fairy light touch. Blue light flashed. The girl groaned and doubled in on herself. Dean gasped and fell back on his Ass, "She just hea…"

"Get back!"

Suddenly, invisible hands flung all three hunters a good 10 feet from the girl.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Castiel lowered his arm. His angel blade dropped neatly into his hand, and he advanced on the girl with deadly intent.

"Woah! Woah! Woah! Slow down Cass, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Dean lurched back to his feet and stumbled gracelessly between the angel and the girl with his arms raised.

Cass stopped, however he didn't so much as spare Dean a glance. His eyes remained focused on the girl. "She has to die, Dean."

Sam picked himself up off the floor and joined his brother. The two Winchesters stood shoulder to shoulder. "We ganked the creature Cass, she's just…"

Castiel spared a brief glance toward the huge mammoth laying dead on the floor. "That, is a demon Sam. No more, no less." His eyes lasered back to the huddled mass of female cowering in the corner, "THAT, is the abomination." He blinked out of sight and reappeared behind the brothers, once again advancing on his target.

Bobby lunged to intercept this time. "Now just hang on one damnable minute, let's think this through!"

Castiel halted once more, glaring at Bobby. "It has to die." He flicked his wrist, readjusting his grip on his blade.

"Cass! So help me I'll send your ass to China if I have to. Let's talk this through!" Dean held a bloody hand mere inches from the wall, where he had hastily drawn an angel banishing sigil. Sam and Bobby moved to post themselves directly in front of the girl.

Cass sighed and turned to face Dean, "What exactly seems to be the problem Dean?"

"Look at her Cass, does she look like she could hurt anything? She's not what we thought…if she even is the creature"

The angel didn't bother to look at her. Instead, he stared Dean down with a perplexed gaze that clearly implied he was questioning the hunter's sanity. " Rest assured, it is the creature. You know as well as I that appearances are deceiving. Power and intent is certainly not of any correlation. Tell me, would you hesitate if the creature looked differently?"

Sam answered, "Hell yes we'd hesitate. This isn't just some monster we're talking about who has killed and tortured. This is a girl chained to the damned floor like a dog! I seriously doubt she is here with Crowley willingly. Come on Cass, just look at her! Really look!"

Cass sighed and slowly turned back to the girl with the overstated patience of an adult under obligation to indulge the impractical whims of a child. Bobby moved a hint to the left so the angel could see. "She just healed Dean's Ribs Cass. Is that the act of something that deserves killing?"

The angel's eyes narrowed at that, and he truly studied the girl for the first time. His stern gaze intensified as it wandered over her form. A scowl graced his face as he noted the cross stitch job on her legs and the cuts on her arms. Letting out a breath, he glanced back at Dean for confirmation. "She healed you?"

Dean nodded. "I cracked my ribs good and she reached out and touched my face and BAM," Dean snapped his fingers, "I was right as rain…just like when you do it."

Sam, who was again kneeling next to the girl, spoke from behind Bobby. "Ah…not quite guys…I think she took the injury on herself."

That had Cass's attention, and Dean and Bobby's as well. Bobby turned and Cass started forward. Dean, after a moment's hesitation next to the sigil, seemed to decide the immediate danger to the girl was past and trotted after Castiel. Blood dripped, forgotten; from the hand he'd sliced to draw the sigil.

Though the girl had yet to speak a word, there was obviously nothing wrong with her hearing. She had been privy to every word spoken between the males; and had definitely heard Castiel ordering her death. She suddenly erupted in a flurry of movement. Taking Sam by surprised, she pushed him, toppling him onto his side. Reason had obviously taken a backseat to the bone-jarring desperation of survival because she lurched to her bare feet and miraculously managed several lurching steps despite her broken ankle. Unfortunately, she seemed to have forgotten she remained tethered to the floor. The chain attached to her collar brought her up short. She had gained enough speed that the sudden lack of give yanked her off her feet. She landed hard on her back, cracking her head against the unforgiving concrete with a sickening thud. All three hunters flinched in sympathy.

Castiel continued advancing. By some miracle, she remained conscious after the fall and rolled onto her belly. Every inch of her body trembled violently as she tried to crawl away from him on arms that could no longer muster the strength to support her. It was at that moment that the angel noticed her back. It was a latticework of raw, angry lash marks. After her fall, they had reopened, bleeding sluggishly and saturating the ripped material of her dress. The torn fabric did little to hide the delicate expanse of her mutilated back from his assessing gaze.

Sensing he'd reached her, she lurched sideways to stare into his face with wide frightened eyes. Castiel sucked in a breath, just as astounded at the brilliance of her eyes as the hunters had been. He cocked his head to the side, holding her gaze; and started to kneel, reaching out a hand and opening his mouth to speak. However, before he could say a word, the adrenaline that obviously kept her going until that point suddenly dissipated. Her eyes glazed over, then rolled back in her head. As she slumped, Cass shot out a hand to catch her head before it could again hit the floor. Sighing, he gazed down at the unconscious female with sad, confused eyes.

Turning to the three hunters who'd watched the scene play out before them is stunned silence, Castiel frowned, "You are correct. This female is not what I expected to find. This is an…alarming turn of events."

Dean shook himself from his surprised stupor, "Dammit Cass. You need to work on your people skills! You scared her so bad she nearly hung herself with that damned collar, she's reopened pretty much every wound on her body trying to get away from you, and now she's probably got herself one mother of a concussion to top it off!"

Sam righted himself, anger pouring from his shoulders in near palpable waves, "Jesus Cass, she was flirting with the shady side of death as it was, and now you've just made it worse!"

Castiel turned his troubled blue eyes back to the unconscious female, "I feel…" He searched for the correct emotion, "…regret. It was not my intent to cause her further injury. However I believe you can relax. I can sense the angel blood flowing through her veins. I do not believe she can die from injuries such as these. It would take no less than an angel blade…or perhaps a demon one to kill her. Castiel cocked his head, musing aloud…or perhaps beheading or complete and absolute blood loss…or…"

Bobby slapped his hat against his thigh, "Maybe so, but she sure ain't healin' like any of you angels either. If she could of she'd a done it by now. She's hurt bad."

Cass sighed, " I will heal her mysel…" He frowned, touching his hand to her forehead.  
Sam knelt next to Cass, "Come on Cass, heal her already."

Castiel scowled and narrowed his eyes, "Her body, it is…resistant."

"You're telling me you can't heal her?! How is that possible? You're a freaking angel!" Dean whirled, pacing in anger.

Cass touched the hand that did not hold her head to the metal circling her throat. The collar dropped neatly into two pieces, freeing her. "I don't know Dean. She is an anomaly, utterly unique. One in a trillion. And contrary to your stubborn recurring belief…I am not omnipotent." Castiel gathered her carefully into his arms, and stood.

Bobby huffed, "Anomaly huh? Well at least we've moved beyond 'abomination.'" He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

The angel opened his mouth to reply, however a distant thud had him quarking his head to the side as if listening to a whisper. After a moment, he whirled to face the hunters. "More demons have arrived…We must leave immediately."

Three demons spilled into the room just as he finished speaking. The hunters whirled, forming a protective wall to block them from Castiel and the girl. Dean glanced at Cass, "It's too late…get her out of here Cass. We'll hold them off until you get back."

Castiel handed his angel blade to Bobby. "Agreed." And then he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Castiel appeared in Bobby's kitchen with the girl cradled in his arms. Looking around briefly, he decided the safest place for her would be the panic room. Moreover, although she seemed harmless enough at present, it did not hurt to take precautions. Cass made his way down the stairs. He could feel the female's blood soaking through his clothing. Glancing behind him, he realized they had left a trail of ruby red droplets on the way down the stairs. Looking at his charge, he noted with alarm that beneath the grime she was deathly pale. Quickly entering the room, he placed her on the bed and touched her cheek. It was icy, and she continued to bleed. Castiel knew the hunters would not last long without his assistance, but he could not leave her in her current condition.

Although his senses told him she was as immortal as, she certainly didn't seem to be healing as one of his kind…or even that of a demon. Furthermore, her body was her own, not a vessel that could be replaced. There was simply far too much they did not know about her to definitively say her injuries were not life threatening. He didn't think it wise to chance such a high stakes gamble.

Cass touched his hand to her forehead, attempting to heal her again. Her body fought him every step of the way. What should have been instantaneous and simple turned into a battle between his will and what he quickly realized were her body's natural defenses. Clenching his jaw, Cass pushed, forcing her cells to submit one by one. Sweat broke out on his brow. First, he addressed the bleeding, compelling it to slow and then stop. Next, he turned his attention to the most pressing of her injuries…the head wound. His own head began to pound as he drew the swelling. Panting with exertion, Cass moved next to the lacerations that riddled her back. He settled for simply drawing the infection from the wounds when his vision began to gray. If he pushed much farther, he himself would be too weak to return to aid the Winchesters. Dragging his hand from her forehead, he stumbled back, clutching at the bedpost for balance. Sticky heat trickled into his mouth. Raising a hand to his nose, Cass's fingers came away covered in his own blood. He frowned, the rest of her wounds and breaks would have to wait until he returned. He drew a blanket over her and disappeared.

SUPERNATURAL

Dean, Bobby, and Sam fought back to back, surrounded by a half a dozen demons. All of which were intent on murder. Sam bled heavily from a stab wound to his side and Dean fought to remain balanced, sporting a bullet wound in his right thigh. Bobby fired round after round of rock salt.

"We're in trouble boys, where in all hell is that featherbrained…"

The demon closest to Sam lunged. Invisible hands flung it back before it gutted Sam with a wicked looking butcher knife. Cass appeared behind two demons in front of Bobby who were making their move. Placing his hands on their heads, blinding light burned from their mouths and eyes before they dropped lifeless to the floor. Flinging the rest back with a wave of his hand, Cass stumbled toward the hunters. The remaining Demons lunged forward, but they were too late. The hunters and the angel had already disappeared.

SUPERNATURAL

Cass fell to his knees the moment the group appeared in Bobby's study. Dean groaned and gave up trying to balance on one leg. He dropped to the floor next to Cass instead. Sam and Bobby leaned against the desk, panting.

"Dammit Sam," Bobby growled, "That's a 16th century manuscript yer bleeding all over. Cass, you mind healing these two digits before they wreck the upholstery?" Bobby sounded all bluster, but no one was fooled. They could all detect concern for the brothers lacing his every word.

Castiel reached out a shaking hand for Dean's forehead, but the hunter reared back before he made contact. "Woah Cass, what the hell's wrong with you? You look just like you did the time you sent Sammy and me back in time for the Colt."

Cass gave up and leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes wearily. "The female was losing too much blood to leave her as she was. I managed to stop the bleeding and heal her head wound, however the energy I expended to overpower the resistance of her body was…substantial."

Dean gave the angel an incredulous look and snorted. "No shit. It looks like she drained your angel juice right and proper. You look like hell."

Cass furrowed his brow, "I did not give her any juice Dean." He let out a breath, "I will recover, I simply need time to replenish my reserves. But…" He groaned and reached for Dean again, "I believe I have enough strength to heal your wounds first." After healing Dean, Cass tried to stand, however he quickly slumped back to his position on the floor. Changing tactics, he reached out and grasped Sam by the ankle. He sagged to the floor in a dead faint before either of the brothers had a chance to so much as utter a thank you.

SUPERNATURAL

Aiyla woke with a start. The sound of three…no, four male voices argued somewhere nearby. She tensed, unable to quell a shiver of fear from chasing up her spine. Squeezing her eyes tight, she assessed her situation. Where was she? She hurt everywhere; bone deep pain that threatened to steel her breath. However, pain had been her constant companion as of late, so Aiyla dismissed it for the moment. Curling her fingers at her side, she felt the unmistakable weave of cotton. A bed, she was on a bed, and she felt oddly…light. She sucked in an elated breath when she realized the heavy weight of the collar was absent. Was she truly free?

Aiyla's eyes flew open and the sight above her brought tears to her eyes. The sky. A huge rotating fan whirred sluggishly above but beyond that… the unmistakable constant of the night sky winked at her. It had been so very long. Her lips cracked and bled painfully, but Aiyla could not control the wide smile of elation that spread across her face. The magical moments when the nubile light of day slowly overtook lady-night unfolded before her gaze. It was as if the heavens knew they had an admirer… and proudly proceeded to execute their best rendering of sunrise…just for her. Brilliant saturated purples and pinks slowly snaked across the small bit of sky above, weaving through the clouds like a lovers fingers through locks of hair. She stared, fixated, as the bold brilliance of the early sun filtered lazily through the clouds. She had wallowed in near darkness for so long, that the light pierced at her eyes painfully, making them smart and water in protest. But she didn't care, it was worth the discomfort.


	6. Chapter 6

Here's chapter six : ) Things are starting to move along a bit now. Sheriff Mills will be making an appearance next Chapter, and we might get a glimpse into Aiyla's past as well. Feedback would be much appreciated…even if it is just to say whether or not this is a story you'd be interested to read more of. Thanks : )

Chapter 6

Aiyla would have been content to lie there watching the sky for hours; however the pains of her body and gruff male voices eventually forced her to return to the harsh truth of reality.

"Someone has got to treat her, so who is it going to be?"

Aiyla turned her head toward the voices, noting as she did so that she was in a large, sparsely furnished room. The walls were covered in symbols. Warding symbols she realized. The voices filtered from beyond a massive metal door.

"She's covered from head to toe in injuries. Somehow I can't imagine she'll appreciate a scruffy old drunk seeing her in the buff. I'm out."

Aiyla blinked…they were talking about her.

"Oh hell no, don't look at me! My bedside manner sucks. I ain't touching her. Sammy, you do it…wait no…Cass how about you?"

"The last memory she has of me is one of terror Dean, I do not think that wise."

Aiyla flinched, recognizing the deep voice of the man who had tried to kill her. Aiyla suddenly felt far too vulnerable lying on her back. Grimacing, she struggled to sit up. However, she had forgotten about her mangled wrist, and a strangled yelp escaped her the moment she tried to place weight on it. She froze, clapping her hand to her mouth with her good hand.

It was too late. The voices ceased. Aiyla's eyes grew wide at the sound of a bolt sliding out of place, and then the big door swung wide. The Winchesters, Bobby Singer and her would be killer peered inside. Aiyla's trepidation lessened slightly, when she noted the almost comical expressions of nervous terror all four men wore. Was it possible that these four big brutes were actually afraid of her? Or rather she amended, treating a girl.

The tallest one who had said he was Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. He stumbled across the threshold when Dean Winchester shoved him from behind, "You got this Sammy."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat again, taking a few steps toward her. "Listen, we're not going to hurt you ok? In fact we kind of saved you…so ah…"

Aiyla darted her eyes to the one who had tried to kill her. Sam followed her wide-eyed gaze. "Don't worry about him, he's not going to hurt you. In fact he's really sorry about before, aren't you Cass?"

The green eyed Winchester and Bobby shoved her would be killer through the doorway. He stumbled and righted himself with an annoyed glance back at the two. But then he sighed and focused his piercing blue eyes on her. Aiyla's breath caught in her throat…such beautiful eyes for a killer. It wasn't just their color that captured her interest…it was the pensive…almost sad expression they reflected. They were eyes that had seen much, and held an odd pairing of wisdom and confused quizzicality that fascinated her.

He shuffled closer, "I…ah…apologize for trying to kill you. I mistakenly thought you were an abomination at the time. However, I have since revised my ah…opinion… somewhat." He let out a surprised grunt when Sam elbowed him in the ribs with a glower. "Umm, perhaps abomination was too strong a word. What I meant to say was…well…"

Bobby rolled his eyes and finally crossed the threshold. "Just shut up Casanova, at the rate your going, your gonna dig yourself a hole clear to Beijing."

Aiyla tried to smile, but her dry, cracked lips pulled painfully and she ended up grimacing instead. It was difficult to remain fearful when four towering men suddenly turned into tongue-tied boys. Aiyla tried to speak, to put them at ease. Unfortunately, only a strangled croak came out. Her raw, overtaxed vocal cords could manage no more.

Dean, the only one left hovering in the doorway, finally seemed to gather his nerve and stepped through, "Something's wrong with her voice."

The one called Casanova walked to her side and began to reach out a hand. He hesitated however, and nodded to her throat, "May I?"

Aiyla nodded warily. His touch was gentle as he placed his fingers on her throat and closed his eyes. "Her vocal chords have been grossly overtaxed." He opened his eyes and captured her gaze, "From screaming I believe." No one had to ask why.

Sitting on the bed next to her, he engulfed the delicate column of her throat with his whole hand. She closed her eyes and swallowed, fighting the urge to recoil. The knowledge that he could strangle her with little to no effort ghosted through her thoughts and she repressed a shudder. He was only trying to help. _Don't be a baby….Don't be a baby._

"I am going to attempt to heal some of the damage done to your body. Relax if you can."

Warmth swamped her throat, soothing and sweet. Aiyla opened her eyes to watch his face. His own eyes were closed; his brow furrowed in concentration. Strain ghosted across his features. Slowly, the raw ache that had lingered in her throat, eased and then disappeared. Eyes still closed, he slid his hand down her arm to her wrist. Aiyla flinched when her bones shifted back to their proper places. He briefly opened his eyes to study her face when he felt her jerk, gauging her distress. Seeming to decide she was ok, he closed them again. Cool pulsing ice enveloped the appendage, and the throbbing ache eased. Sweat broke out on his brow, but he did not stop. He slid his hand down to her hip. Grasping at the blanket that covered her legs, he slid the material high on her thighs, taking her dress along with it. Aiyla briefly noted that the 3 hunters suddenly averted their gazes, looking anywhere but the bed. The barest hint of a smile ghosted across her face. Her healer fingered a blood-encrusted strand of the yarn that threaded her thighs. She gasped when the yarn disappeared as if by magic. The angry, inflamed flesh dotted with punctures were the only testament that it had ever been there at all. Swaying slightly, Cass placed shaking hands high on each of her thighs, slowly sliding his palms down to her knees. The flesh revealed by his retreating hands was new and pink, all signs of infection wiped away. Blood began to trickle from his nose and he swayed again. His right arm snaked out to clutch at the headboard to keep from falling on top of her. The position brought his face mere inches from hers. She could feel the heated puff of his breath against her neck. A droplet of his blood splashed onto her collarbone, startling her from her daze.

Aiyla murmured in dismay and reached up her good hand, placing it against his stubbled jaw. Blue light flashed and his eyes widened in surprise. He reached his hand up touch his nose, pulling it away to find it clean. Reaching out, he swiped at the crimson that now trickled from her own nose. "You should not have done that. My kind heals far faster than you seem to. Now be still, I'll set your ankle and then we'll see about your ribs."

Aiyla knit her brows and shook her head vigorously, trying her voice, "No. You have done enough. The rest can be treated conventionally."

Castiel cocked his head to the side. Her voice was beautiful. She had a lilting accent that only served to heighten the gentle caress of her words. It matched the purity of her eyes perfectly. He searched her face, and then nodded. "If that is your wish I will honor it." He tried to stand, however he began swaying like a drunkard and sank back down beside her almost immediately.

"Woah Cass, just sit tight for a minute." Castiel and Aiyla started, they both seemed to have forgotten the other men remained in the room. Dean clasped a hand to Cass's shoulder, keeping him from toppling right off the bed.

Bobby whistled, sidling up to look at Aiyla. "Damned if the halfpint don't look a mite better already.

Cass shook his head, "She is far from better. "I managed to remove the infection from the lash marks on her back, but if they are not dressed and treated, the infection will return. The same goes for the cuts on her arms. Her ankle needs to be set and wrapped. She has three cracked ribs as well that need binding. I set her wrist, however it is not healed, she'll need it splinted in some way."

Aiyla was suddenly weary to the bone. Sleep called to her seductively. She fought against it. "Thank you Casanova."

Dean's eyes grew wide as saucers, and then a slow grin spread across his face. He guffawed, doubling over in mirth, holding his sides. Sam moved quickly, replacing Dean's suddenly absent grip on Cass's shoulder, with his own. "

Dean wiped at the tears in his eyes, "Casanova…that's a good one, whew."

Aiyla furrowed her brow, "I don't understand, is Casanova not your name?"

Sam snickered, "No, it's just a nickname Bobby pulled out of his Ass."

Aiyla nodded her head, "Oh. I see." She didn't really. Not at all. She turned her gaze to her healer expectantly.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, clutching Sam's shoulder for balance. "I am called Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

Shock burned through Aiyla's weariness and her jaw dropped. "An angel? Truly? Aunt Amee spoke of your kind often, but I never thought I would get the chance to meet one."

The hunters exchanged glances over her head, surprised. Bobby cleared his throat, "You ah…you know about these guys? Not just bible stories…but really know about them?"

Aiyla nodded, "Of course, Aunt Amee taught me well." She fought a yawn, eyes drooping.

Dean tucked his chin, "Who is Amee? And while we're at it, how old are you, how long did Crowley have you, and what the hell did he want with you?"

Castiel held up a hand, "She is exhausted Dean, let her rest. We can question her later."

Bobby looked at Cass as if he had grown a second head, "Well look at you Mr. Rogers. When did you grow a heart and get all empathetic?"

Cass shrugged, "She needs rest in order to heal properly. It is common sense, nothing more Bobby."

Sam scoffed, "You just keep telling yourself that. But I agree, we should let her rest." Looking down at her he smiled, "Just one question first…we can't keep referring to you as 'girl.' What's your name?"

She smiled back, closing her eyes. "Aiyla, my name is Aiyla." And then she let sleep take her.


	7. Chapter 7

Well, not a lot of action to be had this time around, but we get to learn some of Aiyla's history. I'd planned to have Sheriff Mills make her appearance in this chapter, but it got a little long, so next chapter she'll show up for sure.

Chapter 7

The hunters walked out of the panic room, leaving Aiyla to rest. Sam and Dean supported Cass between the two of them, and shuffled awkwardly up the stairs. Dean muttered a creative expletive when all three of them tried to go through the doorway at once. Dammit Sammy, go through sideways!"

The hunters finally made their way into the kitchen. Sam and Dean dropped Cass unceremoniously into the nearest chair with twin grunts. Cass leaned forward, dropping his head onto the table with a light thud. "My head is pounding. It is not unlike the time I drank the liquor store."

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Oh boo hoo, suck it up buttercup." He grabbed a beer from the fridge, taking a swig.

Sam plunked a bottle of aspirin in front of Cass. The angel raised his head, peering at the medication, "Thankyou Sam." He popped the cap and downed the whole bottle. Looking around, his eyes landed on Bobby. He plucked Bobby's beer from his hand, downing that as well.

Bobby watched the angel in disbelief, "Ah, Your welcome!" Sarcasm dripped from his voice like a leaky pipe.

Dean tossed Bobby another beer, "So…question…what the hell are we planning to do with this girl once we get her healed?"

"Aiyla, Dean. She has a name." Sam pointed out.

"She will be hunted wherever she goes," Cass speculated, "She must be protected. Until we know the full extent of her abilities, we should keep her close."

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Oh great, here it comes…I should just quit huntin' and start up a blasted boarding house!"

Dean grinned, "Bobby's Bed and Breakfast, kind of has a ring to it…Ow!"Dean rubbed the back of his head, where Bobby had smacked him. "Relax gramps, I was kidding."

Sam shook his head, "No, Bobby is right guys. She'll be safe here…and besides, what other option do we have?"

Cass nodded, "We can proof the house for Demons. Crowley will inevitably come looking for the gi…" He glanced at Sam's reproachful gaze, "…Aiyla. This is the safest place for her to be."

Dean smirked at Bobby, "So what time is the continental breakfast?" He barely managed to duck the punch that flew at his head.

SUPERNATURAL

Aiyla started from her sleep with a distressed gasp. Eyes darting around frantically, she relaxed slightly when she realized she was still safe in the Hunter's House. Crowley wasn't here. She wasn't still lying broken in the dark, with a demon as her only companion. She'd dreamt she had finally given Crowley her soul…Aiyla shuddered. As she had so many times while in captivity, Aiyla banished her nightmares the only way she knew how, escaping into the past…remembering the bitter-sweet beauty of what her life had once been.

She grew up with the witch Amerielle, her aunt Amee. From a very young age she had known she was loved, she knew she was different…and she'd also known her aunt was terrified of something. They lived deep in the mountains, making their home in a hidden valley full of greenery and life and simplicity. Their water came from a well, and their food came from a garden they tended themselves. Light burned from candles made of beeswax and their clothes were simple, hand-sewn garments produced from bolts of cloth Amee kept in an old trunk. Aiyla had never so much as seen a pair of shoes, let alone worn a pair. Their modest cabin was sturdy and weathered. It's walls were covered in strange symbols from floor to ceiling. As a child she had thought them mere decoration…later she learned they were warding symbols.

Aiyla had never met another human being other than Amee. She had never encountered an automobile or used electricity…but she had knowledge of them. Amerielle was a gifted storyteller and spoke often of her experiences before their life in the valley. So it was through her aunt, that Aiyla knew of telephones, of airplanes, and of places where people flocked to shop for all manner of wondrous things. She knew about running water and schools and best friends. Amee had a wall of books that detailed the stories of people and places of the past and fairly recent present and Aiyla devoured the knowledge they held with greedy wonder.

Amee taught her about creatures that walked as humans but drank blood, changed shape, and sang people to their deaths. Aiyla knew about ghosts and banshees and specters. She knew of demons and angels and religion.

She knew of so many things…but they were also utterly foreign to her, because she had never experienced any of them. She had a vivid imagination, and spent hours pretending she lived in that world. But at the end of the day, each and every bit of her knowledge of the outside world remained just that…knowledge. The world beyond the valley was as distant and elusive as the stars. There to dream of, but never to touch.

So, Aiyla grew up in the company of animals, trees, and a witch. She developed an affinity for the natural world from an early age. Plants that were near death flourished under her loving care. Animals let her approach them without fear.

At the age of 6, a wounded deer had staggered into the clearing, it's right hind leg mangled and useless. It had limped up to Aiyla where she played by the creek, looking at her with pain filled chocolate-brown eyes. Amee had gently told a distraught Aiyla that the beast would not survive. Tears streaming down her young face, Aiyla had shaken her head in denial, "No Auntie! She came here for help!"

Before her aunt could stop her, Aiyla ran up to the beast and threw her little arms around it's lowered head. In a brilliant flash of blue light the deer's leg re-knit. Flesh grew anew. The animal bounded off into the forest with unhindered grace and speed. Aiyla spent the rest of that summer hobbling about on crutches Amee had painstakingly fashioned from an old felled tree. Her own leg had taken on the deer's injury.

The older Aiyla grew, the more she came to realize that they were in hiding. Amee was frustratingly tight lipped about why they had come to live as they did. No matter how much Aiyla pestered her, she would not talk about it. When Aiyla turned 14, Amee began to teach her young charge about sigils and wards, hex bags and old magic. Each time Aiyla asked why she had to learn of such things, Amee had simply shrugged, "For protection my angel…peace never lasts forever. Such is life."

And that is how she spent the first eighteen years of her life, in the quiet simplicity of nature and love, and dreams. She contented her restless spirit with plans for the future, dreaming of the day that she would leave the valley and explore the world she had heard so much about.

Amerielle would look at her with sad eyes whenever Aiyla spoke of leaving, "One day angel, one day you will see the world…but today is not that day. Relish the present my dear, for I fear the future will not live up to your expectations."

Amerielle had been right… peace never lasts forever.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"So enough beatin' around the bush. Who is fixin' to treat Sleeping Beauty down there?" Bobby sat down behind his desk.

Cass frowned, "Is there not another female who could assist her?"

Dean snorted, "You mean one who wouldn't take one look at her and run screaming from the house? How in hell are we supposed to explain injuries like hers? We'd all end up getting toted off to the big house."

Bobby was nodding in agreement when he stopped and snapped his fingers. "The police! Dean you're a genius!"

Sam's eyebrows flew into his hairline and Dean started to grin in agreement, but then frowned. The brothers simultaneously chimed, "Come again?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Sheriff Mills ya Idgits. She'd be perfect!"

Castiel inclined his head, "This is the woman who provided assistance when the dead rose?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, yeah."

Castiel nodded, "I will fetch her immediately."

The angel blinked out of sight before any of the hunters could utter a protest.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, "Well crap, I can see this is just going to go over swimmingly."

Castiel reappeared, clasping a livid Sheriff Mills by the elbow. She held a radish in one hand, dirt still dangling from it's roots, and a garden trowel in the other. Turning on the angel, she smacked him upside the head with the flat of the trowel. "I don't know who you think you are, but if you think I…"

She was winding up to hit a perplexed Castiel again when Bobby lunged to intercept, plucking the trowel out of her hand. "Woah Jody! Calm down, calm down. He's a good guy!" He tilted his head, "A moron…but a good guy. We need your help."

Mills whirled on the hunters, wagging the radish under their noses like a mother scolding her errant children. "And this is how you enlist help? Huh? Beam anyone you've a mind to out of their busy lives like it's freaking Star Trek and expect them to grin and bear it?!"

Castiel rubbed absently at his jaw where Mills had bludgeoned him, eyeing the trowel warily. "I assure you, what we require of you is of far greater importance than harvesting produce."

Sam and Dean groaned and Bobby hung his head, "Cass, you idgit."

Mills rounded back on the angel, poking him in the chest with the radish, "Don't get me started on you mister. I don't know you from Adam!"

Castiel shook his head, "You are mistaken, I am not the illegitimate brother of the Winchesters, I…"

Dean banged his forehead against the doorframe of the study, muttering under his breath, "Featherbrain just doesn't know when to quit."

"…am Castiel, an angel of the Lord."

Mills opened her mouth. "Why, if you think I…"

She paused, Cass's words sank in. Her mouth opened, shut, opened again. She turned to look at the hunters standing sheepishly behind her, mouth working but no sound emerging, and then turned back to Cass again.

Bobby inched forward, "Now Jody, let's just…"

She held up her radish wielding hand, dropped her chin and rubbed her forehead with the other. "No! Don't say a word."

"But we…"

"Ah! Shuushh!"

Sam tried, "If you just…"

"I said zip it!"

The three hunters lapsed into a chastised silence. Watching the hunters expressions, Castiel believed he now had a better understanding of the human expression, 'whipped puppies.'

Jody faced the hunters, "I don't even want to know, god help me." Flinging herself into the nearest chair, Mills sighed wearily. "Alright, let's have it, what do you four imbeciles want?"

Bobby fiddled with his hat, "Well, we seem to have gotten ourselves into something of a situation. Just how good are you at doctorin'?"

SUPERNATURAL

Dean absently twirled a knife, "It's been almost 3 hours, what the hell are they doing up there? Having tea?"

Bobby shut a heavy tome he'd been perusing, "Well I don't know princess, let me just consult my crystal ball."

Sam walked in from the kitchen and tossed Bobby and Dean a couple of beers. He slumped onto one side of the couch. Cass occupied the other. "I heard water running. I'm guessing it took a few tubs of water to get all that grime off Aiyla."

"Try one bath and 2 showers. Not to mention disinfecting and treating a back that makes the Spanish inquisition look like a Sunday school story, binding her ribs, field splinting a wrist and an ankle…and don't get me started on her arms and legs!" Sheriff Mills voice rang clear from the top of the stairs.

"Woman's got the ears of a bat." Dean whispered to Cass. The angel threw Dean a horrified look. Before he could reply, they heard the angry clomp of the Sheriff's descent. The three men whipped to attention. Even Castiel sat up a little straighter.

Mills stormed into the room, "And all that, with crap supplies at my disposal. Honestly Bobby, I would think that in your line of work you would have medical supplies stocked up the wazu. But no, Rambo here, hands me dental floss, a pen knife, and torn up sheets for bandages!"

Sheriff Mills seemed to run out of steam. Pinching her eyes shut, she rubbed at her temples. "I've never seen anything like it. Who does that to someone as sweet as that girl?" She whipped up her head, pinning each of them in turn with a murderous stare, "I hope you beat the Sons of Bitches into next week, killed them, brought them back to life, and then killed them again for good measure!"

Castiel shook his head, studying her ears intently. "The majority have been smited, however the demon Crowley remains at large."

Mill's slitted her eyes, "Well, when you find the bastard, make him pay. I wouldn't mind taking a few goes at him myself."

She walked over to the couch where Cass and Sam sat, plopping herself between them. She was oblivious to the stiff wide-eyed look Cass threw her way. Sam turned toward her, "How's she doing then?"

Mills shook her head, "That girl should be in a hospital Sam. She's in a world of pain. I tried to get her to take some medication, but she refused. Said they would only make her sick." As she talked to Sam, Cass raised a hand to poke at her ear. Dean reached over, slapping his hand away, before he made contact. Mills remained oblivious, barreling on, "I felt like a sadistic bitch, throwing her into the shower and scrubbing those wounds clean."

Dean winced, "It had to be done Mills. She'd be worse off in the long run if you hadn't."

The sheriff nodded, resting her head on the back of the couch. "I know, I know…but you should have seen her Dean. Those big blue eyes were pouring tears, but she didn't make a peep."

He nodded in approval, "Sounds like she's got some backbone, that's good."

Mills nodded, "She's sweet tempered, quiet…a little shy; but she's definitely got some fight in her too. " Mills let out a breath and got up, using Cass and Sam's thighs for leverage. Cass eyed her hand as if it had sprouted claws. "I should get going." She dug in her pocket, and thrust a piece of paper at Bobby's chest. "Here's a list of medical supplies you should pick up for her. Just because you boys think you can get away with dental floss and sheets, doesn't mean she should. At the very least, get her a decent wrist guard and ankle wrap. Oh, and I left those old crutches of Dean's next to her bed…but she could use Bobby's old wheelchair until her wrist heals up. And get her some decent brush and comb. We spent a good hour getting all those snarls out of that hair of hers. I nearly gave up at one point." Sticking out her hand, she waggled her fingers at Bobby, "Give me some keys."

Cass stood, "I will return you home."

Mills shot the angel a glare, "Oh no, one Star-Trek rerun is enough for me Scottie. I'll take one of Bobby's vehicles. She grinned; I'll leave the keys on the tire. One of you boys can pick it up later." She sauntered to the door, but paused and grinned maliciously, "I'm heading out to Seattle to visit my sister for the next three and a half weeks, so you boys are on your own. I'll check in when I'm back, and she better have only good to say about you boys! And don't even think about sticking her down in that basement again! She will need help with bandages, combing her hair, and just plain getting around in general. Have fun playing nursemaid." She bolted out the door before the hunters could voice a protest.

Bobby puffed his cheeks and let out a breath, "That's one formidable woman."

Sam smiled, "Her skills with gardening tools ARE impressive."

Dean grinned, "Never thought I'd see the day when an angel got brained by a trowel."

Cass raised his chin, "She did not injure me, the weapon was most ineffective."

Dean snorted, "Don't make it any less funny."


	9. Chapter 9

So I'm trying to decide. The chapters I post are fairly short…would those of you who follow prefer longer chapters but likely, less updates, or should I keep the system I have in place as is? Well, the boys finally get to see what Aiyla looks like, wonder what their reactions will be?

Chapter 9

Aiyla was sick of lying about. Sheriff Mills had left several hours ago, ordering her to rest. And she had. The no nonsense woman reminded her of Amerielle; and Aiyla had learned at a young age that personality types such as Amee's and Sheriff Mills were not to be crossed. Not unless one was prepared to get an earful.

In any case, Mill's order proved unnecessary. The painful process of getting clean and bandaged had worn Aiyla out to the point where she had barely been able to keep her eyes open. She had slept several hours. The sun reined high in the sky when she fell asleep. Gazing out the window by her bed now, she could see the shadows cast outside grew longer by the minute. Sunset was only a few hours away.

Being cooped up indoors, injuries or no was absolute torture. Captivity had been Aiyla's constant companion for far too long. Aiyla peeked out the window again. Her protectors had left one by one over the last half hour. She could see Dean outside, working on a big beast of a car. Bobby and Sam were nowhere in sight, nor the angel. They probably all expected her to sleep the day away. However, the earth called to her like a siren. She needed to feel it beneath her feet, even if it was just the dusty old dirt of what appeared to be a place where vehicles came to die. Biting her lip, she nodded decisively to herself. She was going outside. They probably would not be pleased. Aiyla shrugged, she was more inclined to beg forgiveness than ask permission…of which she was certain would be a resounding no.

She eased her legs over the side of the bed, wincing when her ribs protested. Aiyla ignored the ache, gritting her teeth. "First things first…clothes." Sheriff Mills had stripped the dress Aiyla wore almost immediately, stating its only future was with a burn barrel. Eyeing the chest of drawers across the room, Aiyla took a deep breath as if preparing for battle. She hefted herself onto her feet, or rather her good one. Dizziness hit her instantly. The room tilted and spun. She was stubborn, and rode out the nauseating wave with clenched teeth. Eventually the room righted itself. Aiyla reached for the shiny crutches Mill's had left by her bedside. Frowning, she stared at the padded tops…they were eyelevel…far too tall. It took Aiyla a good 5 minutes to figure out how to adjust the crutches, and another 10 to accomplish the task. By the time she was finished, a cold sweat had broken out on her brow. She grinned triumphantly, eyeing the newly adjusted supports with pride. Unfortunately, her wrist prevented her from using both in tandem, so for the time being she set one back against the wall. It was lucky that last demon had broken her opposite ankle and wrist. Otherwise, the crutch would not have proved much help at all. She made a couple of practice circles around the room, grinning ruefully and panting with exertion. She certainly wouldn't win any awards for grace; in fact she was fairly certain she resembled a one legged circus performer with an inner ear problem. She was functional though, and that was all that mattered. Opening the chest of drawers, Aiyla frowned at the selection. This was obviously Bobby Singer's wardrobe; consisting of blue pants that would never fit round her waist, and a multitude of patterned shirts. Aiyla wracked her brain, trying to recall a catalogue her aunt had possessed with ready-made clothing littering it's pages. She believed shirts such as these were called flannel. She picked up one of them; twisting it about with interest…it would just have to do.

Dressing herself proved to be quite the trial; the tiny little buttons on the flannel nearly defeated her. However, after a brief battle, she emerged victorious. Aiyla reclaimed her crutch and hobbled to the doorway. She peeked around the doorframe, loath to be caught now and sent back to bed. Seeing no one about, Aiyla hobbled to the stairs. She furrowed her brow, frowning at her newest obstacle. On her best day, Aiyla wasn't exactly the most coordinated of souls…and today was certainly not among her best. Trying to walk down with a crutch and bum wrist would likely prove disastrous. Sighing, Aiyla slowly lowered herself to her bottom with a pained grown. Grasping the crutch, she sent it sliding down the stairs with a noisy clatter. Wincing, she stilled and listened for the telltale noise of booted feet and gruff male voices. Thankfully none sounded. Sighing in relief, Aiyla began the awkward process of scooting down the stairs on her butt. She was going to make it outside if it killed her.

SUPERNATURAL

Dean glanced up from the impala when the telltale crunch of tires on gravel sounded. Sam and Bobby were back. Cass had left shortly after Sheriff Mills departed, leaving the three hunters to tiptoe about downstairs, not wanting to disturb their sleeping guest. Creeping around the house quickly grew tiresome. Dean had finally escaped to work on his baby, while Sam and Bobby decided to run into town for the medical supplies Jody had listed. Dean wiped the grease from his hands on an old rag and walked to the hunters.

"Took you guys long enough, you get everything?"

Sam unfolded his towering frame from the car, "Yeah, had to go to three different places before we found a wrist guard."

Bobby held up the bags, "We found the damn thing though, and everything else on that god-awful list." He peered around, "Angel boy still not back?"

"He is."

Bobby and Sam started. Castiel appeared next to the car. He reached inside, pulling out another bag and peering into it with interest. "Has the female woken Dean?"

Dean shuffled his feet, "Well ah…I haven't been inside. I'm sure she's still sleeping, what with those injuries and all."

Sam shot Dean his best bitch-face. "You haven't checked on her? He glanced at the sun, riding low on the horizon. She's probably half-starved, we haven't fed her since she got here, and there's no telling when the last time was she got anything decent when Crowley had her. What if she had to use the bathroom Dean?"

Dean held up his hands, "Oh there's no way in hell I'm helping with that shit. If you're so worried about her, why don't you go check on her Sammy?"

Cass whipped his head up, frowning, "I don't think that will be necessary." The hunters followed Cass's gaze to the doorway of the house. "I know you're there Aiyla."

Aiyla sheepishly hobbled out of the shadow of the doorway, biting her lip. Sam's eyebrows winged, Bobby's mouth dropped, and Dean let out a low whistle. Even Cass's eyes grew wide. This female standing before them looked far different from the one they had rescued from Crowley's warehouse.

Aiyla's previously dirty gray, snarled hair, now hung long and straight in a shimmering curtain of liquid silver. Cass's hand itched to touch the thick mass of silk that reached well past her hips, wondering if it would feel as soft as it looked. He quickly put his hands in his pockets, banishing the thought immediately. Never, in his multitude of eons, had Castiel encountered a being with hair of such a color. Her eyebrows and lashes were several shades darker than her hair, a smoky gunmetal gray. The thick frame of her lashes and the striking shade of her hair set off the glittering jewel tones of her azure eyes with almost poetic finesse. Cass tore his gaze from her eyes, continuing his observations. She was very pale, but for a feverish blush that stained her cheeks, alluding to her recent injuries, and the exertion she had obviously put forth to make it outside. A smattering of freckles cascaded across rounded baby cheeks and a delicate little nose. She had a stubborn chin and full, rosy lips.

Bobby frowned, "Is that my shirt?"

Dean leaned toward Sam, mumbling under his breath, "Looks way better on her than the old man, that's for sure."

She was a tiny thing. Dean guessed her to be nor more that 5'3" or so. She had indeed fashioned one of Bobby's flannel shirts into a makeshift dress. The shirt hung nearly to her knees, and the sleeves bunched at her wrists, threatening to slip down well past her fingertips if given the chance. She had somehow managed to loop one of Bobby's belts around her waist and buckle it in an effort to shape the too-large shirt more closely to her form. She's had to loop the belt twice around her tiny waist in order to keep it from sliding down. Gently rounded hips gave way to legs that weren't exactly long, but they were well proportioned to her small stature. Her ankles were delicately tapered…or at least one of them was, it's twin remained swollen beneath it's bandaging.

She stood before them, barefoot, teetering unsteadily on her good foot and leaning heavily on a crutch. "Ummm, hello again?"

Sam was the first to shake himself from their collective stupor. "Aiyla, you should be resting, how did you even manage to get down the stairs?"

She shrugged sheepishly, "Creatively? I… I just wanted to..." She began to waver on the crutches, the bright spots on her cheeks grew brighter, "I…"

Castiel instantly appeared at her side. Steadying her, he slid the crutch from under her arm, dropping it without ceremony. Clasping one arm behind her back, he used the other to sweep her legs from under her. She squeaked in surprise, clasping at his neck and winced.

Cass peered down at her with furrowed brows, "My apologies, I imagine the wounds on your back are tender. However, you should have stayed in bed, you have grossly overtaxed yourself young one."

Getting over her shock, she raised her chin, "I'm not that young. I will be twenty one at winter's onset."

Dean snorted, "Yeah, practically ancient. You look like you're 12."

She shot the hunter a glare, "I do not."

Dean smirked, "Whatever Jailbait."

Sam angled Dean a reproachful glare, "Dean!"

Bobby swung, broadsiding Dean with one of the grocery bags. "Show a little decorum ya dumbass, the half-pint over there may not understand your twisted sense of humor."

Listening intently, realization dawned on her face, "Ah, you were jesting then?" She smiled. "I see." Turning her attention back to Castiel she frowned, "I am fine, you can put me down."

The angel shook his head, "I can feel you trembling. Your body is not yet ready for such exertion. If I put you down, you will be lucky to take two steps before falling over. Furthermore, your wrist and ankle are not properly supported; you risk further aggravating the breaks when you teeter about on that…thing." He looked down his nose at the crutch lying abandoned in the dirt.

Dean grinned, eyeing Cass and Aiyla. "Well, girly, you heard Dr. Cass Medicine Angel over there, back upstairs you go."

Her face fell, eyes growing large and sad, "I just hoped to see the sunset…it's been so long since…I ah…" She stopped talking, a haunted, crestfallen look overcast her features.

Sam seemed to take pity on Aiyla, glancing at the horizon and the low hanging sun, "Guys she went to a lot of trouble just to get down here…it's almost sunset anyway, we might as well indulge her."

Dean and Cass seemed ready to protest, but Bobby took Sam's side, "God knows how long she's been locked away for, let her see the damn sunset."

Cass looked at her hopeful face and sighed, "Perhaps a few minutes will not hurt."

Dean glared at Cass, muttering, "Turncoat," under his breath. He snatched up the crutch with a sigh, and wagged his finger at her, "Fine, but you're going to answer a few questions for us while we wait then, Capeesh?"

Aiyla grinned, "I don't know what 'Capeesh' means, but I agree to your terms."

Castiel started walking with her, seeking out a better vantage to which she could watch the sundown. Dean shook his head, a ghost of a smile quirking his lips, "Girl talks like she's read one too many historical romance novels."

Sam looked at Dean as if he'd grown a third eye and then grinned, "Do I even want to know how you know that?"

Dean shrugged, trying and failing to appear mystified, "Shut up Sammy, I don't know what you're talking about." He sauntered after Cass and Aiyla without a backwards glance.

Bobby just shook his head. "I'm surrounded by Idgits."


	10. Chapter 10

I am so sorry for the delay in posting! I was participating in GISHWHES. Man alive, it was great fun…but I also think it's the hardest I have ever worked in my life. After it finished on Sunday, I was absolutely exhausted, so I had to take a few days to recover. LOL. But, enough rest for me…time to start up with the story again…

Cass found an old Ford Pickup truck with the top torn off. Climbing up, he set Aiyla in the driver's seat and then sat himself down beside her. Sam, Dean and Bobby trailed behind. Sam chose a nearby stack of tires to sit on, while Bobby and Dean took the hood of an adjacent old Buick.

Dean glanced at the horizon, "We got a few minutes. How about you give us a little background in the meantime?"

Aiyla nodded slowly, eyes wary. "I can try, what would you like to know?"

"We've just reacently learned of you. From what Cass said, Crowley has only had you for a few years at most. So where in hell were you before then?"

Aiyla shifted uncomfortably beneath eh rapt attention of the men. She reached out her good hand and traced the steering wheel before her. "Do you know…this is the 1st time I have been in an automobile?"

Dean blinked, appalled. "Come again?"

Aiyla proceeded to detail the first 18 years of her life. Amerielle. The valley. Everything.

When she finished, Deans incredulous expression had turned to one of outright horror. He turned to Bobby, "My god. We've been harboring freaking Laura Ingals Wilder!" He snapped his head back to Aiyla, "So you mean to tell me you've never done…you've never been…Hell, you've got to have…" Clearly at a loss, Dean trailed off.

Aiyla bowed her head, flushing. "I know about a lot of things. Amee had many books. It's just that…well, I haven't encountered many.

Sam shook his head, stunned, "So this witch who raised you; why did she cut ties with the modern world?"

Aiyla shrugged, "I don't know. I cannot count the times I perstered her with that very question. She always refused to answer it. She'd tell me, 'One day. When I was ready.' But…well, she never got the chance. " Her eyes hooded, and she looked unseeingly in the distance.

Cass studied her thoughtfully, "It would have been nearly impossible to hide Aiyla for as long as she did in the modern world. The witch was smart."

Sam nodded, picking up Castiels line of thought, "It's a smart way to hide something. The witch found a controlled environment, and then probably warded it against everything and it's mother. Nothing came in, nothing went out. It would be perfect."

Bobby interjected, "Nearly perfect Sam, Crowley did find her."

Aiyla fiddled with the flannel of her makeshift dress and jerked at it in agitation, "But why all this fuss over me? I haven't exactly lead a glamorous life. I know next to nothing about anything, and I…"

Dean stared her down, frowning, " Do you mean to tell me you don't even know what you are.?"

Aiyla looked at Dean in puzzlement, "Crowley said my soul was unique. And I realize the ability to heal is considered rare. However, when I heal it is at such a high price, that I can't see how the skill is very practical, let alone useful to a demon."

"Aiyla, what do you know of your parents. How did you come to live with this…Amerielle?"

She glanced at Cass with puzzled eyes, "Amee said my father died of a sickness before I was born. She said he was a salesman named Bob Dylan. My mother died giving birth to me. She said she and my mother would good friends and that she asked Amee to take care of me before she died."

Dean snorted, "Bob Dylan, what a crop of Bull."

Aiyla frowned, "Is the name Bob Dylan offensive to you?"

Bobby glared at Dean, "No half-pint, Dean's just an insensitive bastard. He means to say that Bob Dylan is the name of a famous person…one who was not a salemen. Your Amerielle obviously took some liberties with the truth."

Aiyla's face fell and she studied her fingernails carefully, "I see…"

Sam shook his head, "Don't look so downcast Aiyla. It could be the witch was just trying to protect you. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss."

Castiel shook his head, "The witch's motives are irrelevant at the moment." He sighed and turned to face her fully, "Aiyla, there is a reason your soul is considered unique. You possess an extraordinarily rare genetic makeup. In fact, you are the only such being of your kind that I have ever heard of…and I have existed for a very long time." He hesitated, noting the wide-eyed expression of wary trepidation and curiosity that warred across her face. Sighing heavily, he continued. "You are the offspring of a fallen angel and a human man. Furthermore, before your birth, your mother was made to consume demon blood. And after your birth, you were given a plethora of other creatures blood as well. I can identify several dozen traces of creatures flowing through your veins. Siren, vampire, shapeshifter to name a few. And still there are at least another dozen more I have yet to identify. You are utterly unique. A walking anomaly of whose existence was not thought possible until now. It is likely you possess abilities that have yet to manifest. Noting her horrified expression, he tried to sound comforting. "Then again, it is entirely possible, much of the monster blood you were given was overpowered by the three main facets of your genetic makeup; human, demon, and angel. The abilities could prove nonexistent, or lie dormant for the duration of your immortal existence. Regardless, the potential locked within your body is vast, and there are multitudes of humans, demons, and angels who will now seek you out in hopes of personal gain. "

Aiyla stared at the steering with unseeing eyes, "Immortal? Angel? Demon?! I…I don't…I can't…" She began breath fast and shallow." Looking at Cass with panic filled eyes, she gasped for breath. " I…I…"

Sam launched himself from the stack of tires, crossing the short distance to reach her side. "Dammit Cass. Haven't you ever heard of letting a person down gently?! She's having a panic attack."

Castiel looked at Aiyla with an alarmed expression, "It was not my intention to cause her distress."

Dean crowded behind Sam, "She can't breathe guys, what the hell are we supposed to do?"

Castiel shot out his hands to frame her face, forcing her to lock eyes with him. His gaze was both commanding and gentle, "Breathe little one. Breathe."

Her chest heaving, Aiyla clutched at Castiel's wrists like she was drowning and he was the only salvation in sight. Cass pressed his thumbs against her temples, "Think about the here and now Aiyla. The heat of the sun on your skin, the pressure of my hands, the beat of the earth. Steady, constant, calm."

Slowly, Aiyla's sawing, shallow gasps deepened and slowed. Castiel held his position until her breath had steadied and the panic had fled from her eyes. He nodded in approval. "Good." Slowly he removed his hands from her face, watching for any signs that panic would again take hold. "I am sorry. I did not wish to cause you anguish."

Aiyla finally regained the ability to speak, her cheeks pinked prettily and she broke the eye contact she still maintained with the angel, frowning into her lap instead. "No…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a baby. I just…wasn't expecting…any of that."

Bobby shouldered between Sam and Dean, "Relax half-pint, given news like that, I'd be worried if you didn't react the way you did. Now enough Q and A for the night." He shot Dean, Sam, and Cass warning looks.

"The suns fixin' to set and you're paler than a death omen. So enjoy your sunset, and then it's off to bed. We can pick up this discussion in the morning."

Aiyla nodded and smiled, "Yes sir."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Why the hell hasn't Crowley come after her?"

Dean slumped over the kitchen table the next morning, cleaning a shotgun. Sam sat opposite Dean. Bobby grumbled and swore from the stove, decked out in a frilly apron. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be doing much good. Flour coated him in a fine dusting from ball cap to boots, there were even streaks in his scruff.

Dean leaned back and shrugged, "I don't know Sammy, maybe Crowley doesn't want to tangle with Cass."

Bobby glanced up from the stove, "I ain't complaining about the lack of demon activity, but if that girl is even half as valuable as Cass says, then I can't see one angel stopping him…Ouch!" Bobby swore, shaking a newly scorched finger. Turning back to the stove, he frowned at the drippy mess bubbling in a cast iron pan that looked like it dated back to the civil war. "Dammit. I think that pancake mix was faulty."

Sam peered over Bobby's shoulder and grimaced. "What the hell Bobby? Are you trying to make pancakes, or summon a demon?"

Dean sauntered up, and poked gingerly at one of Bobby's rejected attempts. The poor misshapen flapjack had been burnt to within an inch of its life. The one below it was in crumbles, and the first one was so undercooked that batter still oozed from it's sides.

Bobby slapped Dean's hand away with his spatula, "Hand's off buttercup!"

Dean grinned and elbowed Sam in the ribs, "Maybe Crowley's afraid Bobby will try to feed him his cooking. That's enough to scare Lucifer himself."

Bobby glared at Dean, "Fine, Paula Dean. Let's see YOU do any better!" Bobby whipped the flour encrusted apron over his head and jammed it into Dean's chest. He marched out the door, muttering expletives all the way.

Sam grinned, "Now you've done it Dean, you poked the bear."

Dean eyed the pan warily, "How important are pancakes in the larger scope of things anyway?"

Sam clucked his tongue, "Oh no, there's no getting out of this one. Aiyla has to eat something. She didn't have more than a few bites of toast last night. She'll never get better if we keep her half-starved."

"I am no expert in the culinary arts, however I do not believe that is how those are supposed to look."

Dean and Sam started at the sudden appearance of Cass, who was poking at the burned pancake with interest. Sam scoffed, "That's putting it mildly."

The angel nodded, "I see, perhaps…" He jerked his head to the side, frowning, "Excuse me."

He blinked out of sight.

"Where the hell did he g…"

Cass reappeared with a startled Aiyla clasped in his arms. The brothers raised their eyebrows in query.

"She was attempting to descend the stairs on her rear." Cass shot the Winchesters a reproachful glance, "You should really be more attentive."

Aiyla, recovering from her surprise, shook her head, "I…It was my fault Castiel. I should have asked for assistance. I did not."

Dean decided she looked better this morning; Not quite so pale, and her eyes had lost their feverish glaze. He noted the stiff way Aiyla held herself in Cass's arms. "Ah… Cass? Personal space, remember? You can put her down."

The angel, standing obliviously, looked down at his charge with dawning realization. "Ah…yes. Of course. He strode over to the table and settled her carefully onto one of the worn old chairs. "My apologies."

Aiyla pinked, and shot Cass a hesitant smile. "That's ok. Thankyou…for your help."

The angel rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled his feet, staring at her quizzically. "You are…welcome."

It briefly flitted across Dean's mind that Cass wasn't used to gratitude. Wracking his brain, he realized that he and Sam probably hadn't thanked the angel very often, considering all he had done for them. As quickly as the thought occurred though, Dean banished it just as quickly. He mentally shrugged. _Ah well, couldn't go letting the featherbrain get a big head._

Cass eyed the atrocity of a breakfast that Dean was halfheartedly attempting to salvage. "Perhaps it would be best if I seek out sustenance."

Dean tossed the spatula down with a relieved sigh. He flinched when the batter coating the utensil splattered onto his cheek. "God's yes, Cass. That's the best idea I've heard all morning."

Cass turned to Aiyla, "What is it you like to eat?"

Her eyes immediately went dreamy. "Oh, oatmeal or porridge would be wondrous…and perhaps fruit? We had a beautiful plum tree in the valley…an apple one too. Oh, and in the summers we would pick raspberries, and blue berries, and…"

Dean looked at Aiyla as if she had just suggested that Cass bring her the head of a newborn for breakfast. "Fruit? Really sister? What about some meat…protein you know? Who waxes nostalgic about plums?"

She trumped Dean's horrified gaze with one of her own, "Oh no, I just couldn't. I could never bring myself to eat some innocent animal, I would feel just…terrible."

Dead paled and weaved unsteadily to a chair, throwing himself down. "My god. I cant…I mean…who…"

Sam glared at Dean, "Don't pay him any mind Aiyla, Dean thinks the major food groups consist of beef, bacon, grease, and pie."

Aiyla grimaced, "Oh dear. I see."

Cass plopped a bowl of what Dean supposed was porridge, in front of Aiyla. Beside it, he added a bowl piled high with fruit. "Is this satisfactory?"

Aiyla flinched, she hadn't even noticed Cass left. Eyeing the fruit she quickly recovered, "Oh yes. It's just perfect. Thank you!"

She reached out a visibly trembling hand, eyeing the food as if it was the Holy Grail itself. She plucked out a ruby red strawberry, and took a reverent bite. Aiyla closed her eyes and let out a pleasured moan that was indicative of nothing less than absolute ecstasy.

Dean's horrified expression wavered, as she loosed another moan that was obviously indicative of nothing short of absolute ecstasy. He saw Sam's jaw drop from the corner of his eye. Dean turned to his brother, "My god, she's all but having an orgasm over one puny little strawberry…how does that even happen?"

Sam shrugged, as dumbfounded and Dean. Aiyla opened pleasure glazed eyes and frowned, "What's an orgasm?"

Dean's jaw dropped and Sam began to have a coughing fit. Cass, who had been watching Aiyla eating the strawberry with the oddest look of wonderstruck fascination, opened his mouth to explain. "It is the physical and emotional sensation humans experience at the peak of…"

"Oh god Cass, shut your pie hole." Dean muttered, dropping his head to the table and rolling his forehead back and forth on it's surface.

The angel barreled on"…sexual excitation, usually resulting from the stimulation of the sexual organs, and in the case of the human male, often resulting in ejaculation. The French refer to it as the little death. In some cultures…"

"Cass, for the love of all that's holy, stop talking!" Sam implored.

The angel stopped, studying the appalled looks of the Winchesters in confusion. Finding no answer there, he looked to Aiyla. Cass decided he now had a better understanding of the human phrase, 'eyes as round as saucers.' If the little female's eyes grew any wider, they would reach her hairline. Mentally backtracking, Cass realized he had obviously overstepped one of the countless and confusing social boundaries that humans placed such importance on. Obviously, despite her rather unorthodox upbringing, Aiyla followed a set of similar values. Cass cleared his throat, "Ah, I apologize…some of the nuances of what humans deem socially acceptable are foreign to me."

Aiyla shook herself from her surprised stupor, "No, I…I did ask. I'm sorry, I was simply taken aback by the topic. My aunt did not have any books detailing…orgasms." She perked up, "But this place has many more books than Amerielle possessed. Perhaps I can find one here to further educate myself."

." Dean always thought he'd die bloody…as a hunter should. Nope. Clearly, little Miss ignorant and the socially stunted tax accountant with wings, were in cahoots to do him in via some nice and slow torture. Dean slammed his head into the table, "We're doomed Sammy…kill me now


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Those little suckers exist, mark my words!"

Aiyla perched on the arm of the couch in the study, listening to Sam and Dean argue over the existence of leprechauns. She inwardly groaned, she should have never asked if they had ever encountered one. She'd simply been trying to make conversation…but this was quickly escalating into a civil war. The debate continued to heat with every second. The brother's were obviously stir crazy, she supposed…too long cooped up in Bobby's house having to watch her. She glanced longingly outside, where she could see Bobby fiddling with something or other under the hood of an old vehicle. Oh, she wished she was out there too; rather than stuck acting as a mediator between two very large, very angry men.

"Dean, do you really think there's a little man sitting at the end of a rainbow just waiting for…"

"As a matter of fact I do!"

"Well you're an idiot!"

"Well maybe we should settle this outside!"

"Fine by me!"

"Fine!"

Aiyla hurriedly stood, teetering on her crutch. "Pie!"

Dean and Sam, red faced and standing toe to toe, stopped. They slowly turned their heads toward her with raised brows.

Aiyla squirmed beneath their rapt attention, scrambling for words. "Ah…um…all this talk about wee folk has got me hungry for pie." Aiyla awkwardly patted her stomach, "Yes..indeed, I think a nice apple pie is just the, ah… ticket." She could practically see the wheels turning in the brother's heads as they tried to find a connection between leprechauns and pie. Well they weren't going to find one anytime soon…she'd simply said the first thing that came to mind in an act of desperation to prevent an all out brawl. The brothers gave her twin looks that clearly questioned her sanity; but then turned back to each other, intent on continuing their argument. Aiyla slumped, momentarily defeated…but then saw Sam's hand inching toward a knife at his hip the same time Dean's inched for his gun. She squared her shoulders and rallied. "Mmmmmmmm, yep. Hot, fresh baked pie… right out of the oven! It just sounds so…ahhhh… soooo… good!" She inwardly winced at her too loud voice and halting delivery. An actress, she was not. But she was committed now, so she barreled on, "Don't you think so Dean? Why, all that cinnamon and those tart apples…oooo, and the crust…so flaky and warm and …"

Dean seemed to warm to her words, "And icecream?"

_Ha! She had him now!_

"Oh yes, of course! And Sam, didn't you tell me just the other day how partial you are to…ah..." She actually had no idea what he was partial to.  
"Cherry?" Sam supplied, looking slightly hopeful now.

Aiyla bobbed her head, trying to look serious, "Oh yes, cherry. How could I forget? Well that does it, we'll just have to make ourselves some homemade pie."

Dean grinned, argument forgotten just like that. "Hells yes! Homemade pie Sammy!"

He clapped his brother on the back, suddenly oblivious to the fact that he'd challenged him to a dual not 5 minutes ago.

Aiyla let out a huge breath of air, crisis averted. "I'll just make up a list of ingredients we'll need and then you two can take a trip into town to get them." She grinned, proud of her quick thinking and headed for the kitchen. Oh her way out, she caught her crutch on the edge of the couch and went careening forward.

"Woah, there!" Dean snatched out a hand, to steady there. "Slow down speed racer, there's no hurry."

Aiyla winced, "Sorry…really sorry." Red faced, she continued toward the kitchen.

Dean waited until she was out of earshot and then whirled toward Sam. "She's a menace."

Sam winced, reluctantly agreeing with Dean. They were on day 5 with Aiyla in residence, and it had become ever more apparent that the girl was an absolute klutz. When you added a bum ankle and crutches to the mix, she turned into a pintsize apocalypse waiting to happen. Yesterday afternoon she'd caught her crutch on a rug and careened into an unsuspecting Dean's back, taking them both down in a whirl of limbs. Last night she'd accidentally mashed Bobbie's toe with her crutch and then knocked the 600 year old femur of a lesser saint off the desk, where it shattered into about a bazillion pieces. This morning she had somehow managed to lurch off balance and hit a bookcase so hard that it began to tip. She was lucky Sam had been in the same room, he just barely managed to catch the shelf before it turned her into a flapjack. Death by bookcase…that would have certainly been a new one. Unfortunately, even his quick reflexes had not been able to keep the heavy hardbacks from careening off the shelves and raining down like literary hell fire. Sam took a giant tome to the grapefruit that required 3 stitches, and Aiyla now sported a black eye and bruised collar bone. Sam was glad Sheriff Mills wasn't due to arrive back for another few weeks. If the woman saw Aiyla now, he was certain she would shoot first and ask questions later. Aiyla looked like the new poster child for a victim of domestic abuse.

"Where the hell has Cass been anyway? He started all this…why isn't he babysitting little miss hell on crutches?"

Sam shrugged, "He's fighting a celestial war Dean, what do you expect?"

"I expect him to remember he dragged us into this mess in the first place! The guy can't ignore us for weeks on end, and then expect us to drop everything the minute he needs help! We aren't frick'n babysitters, we have hunting to do!"

Sam shook his head, Dean may be partially right, but he was also the pot calling the kettle black. He'd lost count of the number of times they themselves had called on Cas for assistance…expecting him to come running like their own personal errand boy. "He rebelled against heaven for us Dean, don't you think we should cut him a little slack, besides…Cass's plan was to ice a monster…he wasn't exactly prepared to get saddled with a hybrid girl. We're the ones who convinced him to let her live."

Dean shot Sam a withering look, choosing to ignore that particular point and barrelledd on, "If Crowley hasn't come after her yet, maybe she's not as important as Cass thinks. We need to be hunting Sammy. That job I found in the paper this morning ain't gonna wait. She'll be fine with Bobby."

Sam snorte, giving up. "Fine, let's go then…But you're going to miss out on pie."

Dean frowned, weighing his options. "We've lost too much daylight today, better leave tomorrow morning." He grinned, pleased with himself. "That means pie for breakfast too!"

Dean glanced up at the ceiling, "You hear that featherbrain? As of tomorrow, Sammy and I are done babysitting your new girlfriend. She can chill with Bobby. If you don't think that's good enough, you can just zap your celestial ass down here and…"

"I am not courting the female Dean." Cass appeared in the study, frowning.

Sam grinned ruefully, "Thank god for that, can you imagine those two together?"

Dean had been ready to tear Cass a new one, but shined to the topic, smirking. "Yeah, clueless and cluelesser…er. And the award for socially awkward couple of the year goes to…"

Cass quarked his head, his frown deepening. "Cluelesserer is not a word Dean."

"I have the list! Oh…um…hello Castiel." Aiyla stopped dead hobble, as she laid eyes on the angel. Good to ..ah…see you again. Are you here to visit?"

Sam stepped forward, clapping Cas on the shoulder, "No, we called him. Dean and I need to go on a hunt…"

"…tomorrow." Dean interjected helpfully, eying the ingredient list. Pie still clearly took precedent in his mind.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and continued, "You'll stay here with Bobby while we're gone."

Castiel frowned, clearly unhappy with the situation. "I do not thin…what happened to your eye?" Frowning, Cass abandoned whatever argument he was about to make, noticing her new injury and marched forward, reaching out a hand to clasp Aiyla's chin and get a better look. Her eyes grew wide, but she stayed still. Then, Cass saw the giant bruise on her collarbone, peeking from beneath yet another of Bobby's repurposed shirts. He hooked the shirt collar with a finger and slid it to the side. Reaching up his other hand, he gingerly prodded at the huge mark he'd revealed. By this time, Aiyla had gone beet red, unused to such familiarity.

Sam sighed, "Cass, personal spa…"

The angel whirled on the brothers with angry, slitted eyes. "What did you do to her? He pointed a righteous hand back toward Aiyla,"You were supposed to be protecting her."

Dean tensed, marching forward, "Now just hold on one second, Cass…if you think for one moment we…"

"Cas, It wasn't their fault!"

The angel glared at Dean for a moment longer, and then reluctantly turned his gaze back to Aiyla. "What do you mean?"

Frazzled, she hurriedly shuffled forward. Or at least tried to. "Clearly, her first run-in with the couch had not left much of an impression. Once again, her crutch caught on the it's corner. This time, Aiyla had more momentum, and neither of the brother's was near enough to catch her. Arms cartwheeling, she saw the edge of the desk, realizing with horror, that she was about to take a header right into it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prepared to see stars. A steely band, whipped round her middle and swung her away from imminent concussion with enough force to knock the breath from her. Aiyla found herself situated rather snugly against a big wall of warmth. Quirking one eye open, she looked up…up, into the enlightened eyes of Castiel.

Taking A deep breath she attempted to reclaim the air she'd lost. "Thankyou Cas. I'm sorry, I haven't quite got the hang of using crutches."

Cas clasped Aiyla under the arms, lifting her up like she weighed no more than a child, and setting her atop Bobby's desk, feet dangling over the side. "Stay put." Turning back to the brothers he opened his mouth to speak, but Dean beat him to it.

"Don't get your feathers in a twist Cass. Open your eyes, The girl is a holy terror on crutches."

Aiyla nodded emphatically, "It's true Cass, it wasn't their fault at all. I tripped and fell against a bookcase yesterday… in fact, things could have been far worse if Sam hadn't been there to keep it from toppling. Why, just look at his poor forehead…he's was injured while helping me…in the line of duty you might say.

Cass's shoulders relaxed a bit, but he remained frowning. "You were still injured while in their care."

Aiyla shrugged sheepishly. "Really Cass, I was quite fortunate. I was only accosted by a rather droll book about some stuffy greek god…it was much smaller than the medieval torture tactics tome that bushwhacked poor Sam. These two have been just marvelous, really. I truly am quite the holy terror when on crutches… as Dean so eloquently stated." She tilted her head and muttered, half to herself, "Truth be told, I don't exactly embody grace even when I'm free of injury. " She shrugged sheepishly, "Amerielle said I was the clumsiest person she'd ever encountered. And she was a witch…they live a long time you know…she had surely met multitudes…of clumsy people I mean!"

Sam watched Cass's face as Aiyla made her longwinded argument, in a vain attempt to spare the brothers of his wrath. With some surprise he watched Cass's face go from tense to amused and then to indulgently fascinated as they all listened to her rather eccentric way of wording things. Was that the shadow of a smile pulling at the corner of Cass's mouth? Sam squinted his eyes, looking closer, but Aiyla finished stating her case and was looking at the angel expectantly. Cass quickly composed his features, any evidence of a smile, was gone before Sam could confirm.

"I understand." Turning back to the brothers he inclined his head, "My apologies for the accusation."

Dean snorted, "Damn-skippy featherbutt." Eager to move things on, he clasped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly. "Now where's that list Aiyla…I do believe there are two pies that are just waiting to get made."

As Aiyla and Dean bent their heads over the grocery list, Sam turned to the angel. "We really do have to leave tomorrow Cass, it looks like there's a big case shaping up two states over. Lives are at stake, you know?"

Cass sighed, eyeing Aiyla. "I understand." The angel's shoulders slumped a bit…yet another mannerism that was very uncharacteristic for the angel. He hesitated, but then continued. "This war is proving to be very demanding Sam. The girl is a complication I was not prepared for. It was fortunate, we were able to learn of her existence first. Raphael does not know about her…and I'd like to keep it that way. The angel glanced toward Aiyla and Dean as they continued to discuss the pie ingredients with excitement. He shook his head, "There's no telling what Raphael would do…kill her, use her, twist her to breaking until he has a puppet for his own means."

Sam nodded, "She said Crowley took samples of her blood and was trying to get her to give up her soul…any luck figuring out why?"

Cass shook his head, "Not yet…it is difficult to seek out information without tipping Raphael and his spies off about her existence." He paused, frowning. Once again he hesitated.

Sam clenched his teeth, "Come on Cass, what is it…you're obviously thinking something.

"It could prove entirely unimportant, but there is one thing. That girl is the culmination of a previously unheard of fusion of sentient beings. Angel, demon, human, monster….perhaps even lesser gods. It begs the question; upon death, where is a soul such as hers destined to go? Souls are…powerful Sam. The potential of one such as hers…."

Cass trailed off. Aiyla and Dean had straightened, done with their discussion.

Sam let out a breath, "Yeah, I think I get it."

Cass nodded, "She must be protected." Then, louder he addressed Aiyla and Dean as well. "Sam and Dean will be departing in the morning. Aiyla, You will stay here with Bobby. I will check in as much as I am able in their absence." He caught Aiyla's gaze and held it, "Do not hesitate to call for me if something happens."

She nodded, brow furrowed. "O…okay."

Cass nodded in approval. "I must take my leave for now." He paused, "Enjoy your …ah….Pie." And then he was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello, Hello. Things are starting to move along now. I wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed the story hence far. Your reviews in particular are my fuel to continue : ) I'm excited for chapter 14. Crowley shows up, and his character is great fun to play around with. Chapter 13 and 14 were originally going to be one chapter…but it would have gotten a bit long, so I split them up. At the risk of fishing for reviews…please review! Ha ha : )**

Chapter 13

Aiyla hummed to herself as she dried an old blue dish and gazed out Bobbie's kitchen window. She had been in residence for nearly 3 weeks, and she was finally starting to feel comfortable…well with Bobby at least. Dean, Sam, and Castiel had not been present for the majority of the time.

Her injuries were healing nicely. Bobby had told her that she did not heal as quickly as an angel or demon, but she also did not heal as slowly as a pureblood human. As she had none to compare herself to, she was inclined to take Bobby's word for it. The lacerations on her back had healed completely, leaving only thin white scars. Her wrist remained in a guard, but she was optimistic that she could take it off by week's end. Her ribs were tender if she twisted suddenly, but so long as she was careful, they gave her no trouble. She glanced at her ankle, unbound and showing no indication of having ever suffered injury. She blushed, recalling how that particular miracle had come to be.

_She and Bobby had been on their own for two days, when Castiel unexpectedly appeared to check in. When he arrived, she was upstairs. Hearing voices, Aiyla hurried to greet the angel as he talked with Bobby. In her haste, she caught her crutch on the banister. She'd actually achieved air, as she toppled down the stairs. Castiel had hastily teleported, and caught her before any major damage occurred. Seemingly fed up with her penchant for near death experiences, he plopped her unceremoniously onto Bobbie's desk and healed her ankle as well as the black eye and bruised collarbone from the bookcase; disregarding her protests. He'd spent several hours recovering on Bobbie's couch that day. Feeling guilty for causing his weakened state, Aiyla insisted he let her read to him while he recovered. He had given her an odd look, but did not protest. After a few hours though, she nodded off. When she awoke, she was the one laying on the couch covered by a blanket and Castiel was gone. _

Though she hated to have been the cause of weakening Castiel, even temporarily, she was also grateful he had insisted on the healing. She really was a disaster on crutches. Free of the bothersome things, she could now help around the house. Washing dishes was not easy with one bum wrist, but Aiyla was determined to earn her keep. Bobby seemed to recognize her need to be useful, and simply mumbled for her not to overexert herself. Sam and Dean had left at dawn, for another hunt, so any protests they might have issued were moot. Aiyla frowned, realizing that what they hunted were the very things whose blood flowed through her veins. She raised her hand, turning it about. Such an ordinary hand, no different from Dean, Sams, or even Castiel's in all but size. It certainly didn't look like the hand of a monster. It was still difficult her to fathom that she was anything other than ordinary. Her early life had been so uneventful. On some level, she knew that healing was not considered a typical human trait. But Amerielle was her only connection to the outside world and had never indicated how unique the talent truly was. In fact, she always assumed that healing as she did was rare, but still practiced by at least a select few. She was quickly coming to realize that such was not the case.

Aiyla touched a hand to her hair, staring at the faint image of her reflection in the dingy old window. Yesterday she had found an old stack of magazines in a closet. Eagerly, she'd paged through the dusty pages…and quickly come to the realization that the color of her hair was utterly unique…different. She'd been glad to see that blue eyes were considered a normal feature, choosing to ignore the fact that the jewel tones of her own were far more striking than any she'd found within the magazine's pages.

Different. Freak. Monster. Abomination. Amerielle had owned a book called Frankenstein. Aiyla had felt sorry for the monster who'd been forced to live apart; alone and afraid. But it was a detached sort of pity…that of a child who could never truly understand the pain of being different. Aiyla glanced away from her reflection. She thought she understood a little better now.

The hunters and Castiel had all been cordial, polite. Sam and Bobby seemed to be the most accepting. Sam went out of his way to be nice to her. But when he thought she wasn't looking, she would sometimes catch him looking at her with eyes that held pity and sadness. Bobby had told her about Sam and Dean's past. About the demon blood. Perhaps he saw something of himself in her.

Bobby was wonderful. Almost from the start he'd treated her just as he did Sam and Dean. As the days progressed, he'd become more and more friendly, protective even. She liked his gruff exterior…because she knew it was only a guise. He cared. He cared about the brothers as if they were his own children. He even seemed to hold Cass in a grudging sort of esteem. She grinned… he was starting to care for her as well, she was sure of it. Perhaps it was because she was female, or young, but he seemed to be more willing to outwardly show his affection toward her than the boys. Over the weeks, he's made a great effort to select books from his substantial collection that he thought she would enjoy. Just this morning, he'd ruffled her hair and called her half-pint. She couldn't say for certain how fathers acted toward their children, but Aiyla liked to think that Bobby's treatment toward her came close. It was a nice feeling.

Unfortunately, Dean and Cass were a different story. Dean, while polite, seemed to struggle with the knowledge that monster blood flowed through her veins. She remembered the way he'd threatened Cass at the warehouse when the angel had tried to kill her. He'd even placed his own body between her and the angel. Unfortunately, the protective qualities Dean displayed seemed to be at war with what she was quickly coming to realize were a hunters instincts ingrained in him since childhood. Aiyla shivered. She was not certain he would spare her if she began to present any more abilities than she already possessed.

For the time being at least, she'd decided to omit the fact that she could detect lies as easily as another discerned a grape from an orange. She also hesitated to confess that as the days wore on she'd begun to see Castiel's grace shimmering beneath his vessel… marking him as angel. Remembering the early days of her imprisonment she recalled she had also been able to see the tortured, skeletal faces of the demons leering out at her from beneath their human meat suits. Of course, as her body weakened under the torture and malnourishment...the ability had faded to nothingness…which was likely why she had not been able to tell Cass was an angel upon their first meeting.

Ah yes…Castiel. Or Cass, as the hunters called him. She was unsure what to think of the angel…nor what he thought of her. He looked at her with those wise, pensive eyes and sometimes she swore he could see right into her soul. He watched her with the oddest pairing of wariness, fascination, and something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was odd, she supposed, that she was largely unafraid of him. One might even call it foolhardy, considering he had tried to kill her upon their first meeting. He was dangerous. He was powerful. Why… he could smite her with a single…

Aiyla shook her head, banishing the uneasy thoughts. Scolding herself, she forced her attention back to the present and the many blessings she'd been graced with. Warmth, care, safety. Luxuries she'd lacked for so very long. How could she be anything but grateful? And the sky…Aiyla gazed longingly out the window, taking in the clear blue of the heaven's with greedy eyes. Oh, how she wished she could go outside. But the brothers had told her that without Cass present, exiting the house was far too risky. The demon proofing Cas and Bobby implemented only covered the house itself. Outside, she would be wide open to demon attack…thus placing Bobby in danger as well. Sam had also explained in detail, the typical signs of an angel's approach. Apparently most angels arrived with far more gusto than Castiel's sudden appearances. Any signs of high pitched screeching or windows shattering….and she was supposed to run to the panic room straightaway, which Sam and Dean had angel proofed before their departure.

Aiyla picked up another dish, drying it absently.

"Hello poppet."

The pretty blue dish shattered, scattering across the kitchen floor in jagged, broken. Her newly found hope followed suit, splintering into a million forlorn pieces. Crowley had come for her.


	14. Chapter 14

Here comes Crowley… the sneaky devil. : ) Pretty Serious this time around.( I like writing less serious as a general rule)...but Crowley was fun to write for, so I didn't go too insane pounding the chapter out. Things will hopefully lighten up for a bit after this…wonder what Aiyla will do after that conversation with Crowley? Something tells me she's tired of being a victim. Hmmmm

As always, feedback and comments are always welcome : )

Chapter 14

Crowley lounged in the kitchen doorway. Eyeing the shattered remains of the plate strewn across the floor, he clucked his tongue, "There goes the good china."

Aiyla opened her mouth to scream, "Ca….!"

Crowley snapped his fingers and Aiyla suddenly felt an invisible hand vice around her throat, cutting off her scream. The King of Hell pushed from the doorframe, tsking as he approached her. The broken shards of the blue plate crunched beneath his feet like brittle bone. He wagged his finger at her, "Ah, Ah ,Ah poppet…we have no need of that bothersome celestial."

Aiyla turned to run. Crowley simply flicked his wrist and sent her sliding violently forward. Her feet dragged painfully across the broken shards as she slid across the floor. Her momentum was stopped when her belly slammed hard against the edge of the kitchen table. Her hands slapped flat against the tabletop. She tugged frantically, but they wouldn't budge. Spots started to dance before her vision as the need for oxygen grew greater. She could hear the crunch of glass as Crowley approached her from behind. She twisted as far as she was able and cranked her head to watch his lazy approach.

"Settle down pet, I've only come to talk.'

Aiyla stilled, desperate for air, eyes darting frantically. Where was Bobby?

Crowley grinned, "If you're looking for the old buzzard, you're wasting your energy. The imbecile is tinkering outside with some old jalopy." He clasped his hands and grinned, "Which means I have you all to myself. Now then…if you promise to be a good girl, I'll take off the gag."

Despite the dizziness the lack of air created, Aiyla hesitated…but then slowly nodded. Crowley raised his hand to snap, but paused, eyes narrowing. "Don't even think about calling for our dear angel friend. If you force me to silence you again, I can't promise you won't find yourself permanently affixed with a nasty case of lock-jaw." He snapped.

Aiyla gasped, greedily drawing in huge gulps of air. "H…How did you…"

"Get in?" Crowley tried to look offended. "Oh ye of little faith." He raised his arms and gestured theatrically to himself, "King of Hell, remember?"

Aiyla furrowed her brow, "But Ca…" She paused at Crowley's warning glance, "…the angel placed the wards himself."

Crowley rolled his eyes, "Fine. You got me. You might say It was actually a rather fortuitous twist of fate." He jerked his head toward the ceiling. "Latch is broken on your window, Luv. I'm afraid all the wards in the world aren't much good when what they're protecting isn't properly sealed. All it took was one nice gust of wind and voila, King of Hell, at your service"

"Aiyla's shoulders slumped, "Oh."

Crowley strolled around the kitchen, studying his surroundings. "Really Aiyla, If you planned to upgrade prisons…you could have done better than shacking up with the Winchesters," He shook his head while clucking his tongue. "I hate to tell you this, but whoring yourself out to an angel, a drunk, and two codependents with daddy issues…why, it's really quite tacky my dear. I'm afraid that lilywhite reputation of yours will be in tatters."

Aiyla forced her fear down, searching for at least a semblance of courage, "It's not like that. They…They're…"

Crowley smirked, "What? Your friends?" He broke out into a full grin, shaking his head. "Come now, my little Jezabel. You have more sense than that. Let's be honest, hmmm?"

Aiyla couldn't help the quivering that wracked her body as Crowley sidled up next to her, running a finger along the line of her jaw. Leaning in, he whispered next to her ear, "They're your new wardens' poppet."

Aiyla jerked her head away from his hand, "You're wrong."

Crowley cast her a pitying look, "Ah, Denial. How quaint. Think about it my dear. Your whole life you've simply traded out one prison for the next, starting with that bothersome whore. The witch hid you away from the world. Kept you on a short leash didn't she?" Crowley raised the deep timber of his voice, mimicking a woman, "Don't go beyond the glade! The outside world is a dangerous place…blah blah blah. Any of this sound familiar?"

Aiyla shook her head vehemently, "Amee loved me!"

The demon rolled his eyes. "Love." He spit out the world as if it created a vile taste in his mouth, "Sopping drivel, the lot of it. How's that old bit of song go? Ahhhh yes…_love must never hold tight, never hold tight… but let go_. Miserable bit of word vomit that…but I think ye can appreciate the sentiment. She kept you there out of nothing more than fear, my sweet." He watched her face, grinning as it paled even further. "Deep down you've always known it. How do you think I found you in the first place hmmm?" He placed his hands in his pockets, warming to his story as he strolled around the room, "Poor little poppet, curious for more…wandering further than she ever had before. Poor little poppet, with dreams in her head...not ever knowing, they would kill a witch dead."

"Stop it!" Aiyla turned her head away.

Crowley ignored her, continuing, "From the first moment you stepped beyond the witch's wards, she was as good as dead and you were mine. One prison for another. But then you had the audacity to escape…and with the Winchesters no less." He placed a hand over the place where his heart would be…if he had one. "You cut me deep. I mean come on…the Winchesters? Really? I tell you, a demon can only take so much." Crowley shrugged off his feigned distress and caught her gaze. "Luckily for you poppet, I've got bigger pots to stir at the moment. As such, I'm inclined to let the Winchesters and the angel keep you...generous of me, I know. Pity though, considering the power a soul like yours could hold…the melding of an angel, and demon, and a human…and all that monster blood to boot…ah the possibilities"  
Aiyla cursed the traitorous tear that tracked down her cheek. "I'm not your poppet…and I'm not a thing to be sold or traded or…or kept! I'm free and I'll make my own choices!"

Crowley smiled at her patronizingly, "I admire the false bravado…but you were destined for slavery the moment your mother drank the first drop of demon blood. You are a monster Aiyla…and the hunters know it as well as the next person. The angel too. You are not as smart as I thought if you think they're sheltering you out of the goodness of their hearts."

"I…I'm not a monster."

Crowley raised his eyebrows, seemed to consider her words. "Whatever helps you sleep at night my dear. But I ask you this, what do you think they will do if you try to leave? Hmmm? Something has me thinking, they won't pack you a picnic basket, pat you on the head, and send you on your merry way with a smile and a wave. But then again, what do I know…I'm just a lowly demon."

She would have clenched her hands into fists if they didn't remain plastered to the table. "If you aren't here to steal me back, then what do you want?"

Crowley shrugged, "Oh, just checking up on you…I'm considerate like that. Thought you might like to know that the angel you're so fond of is…Oh bollocks."

Castiel appeared in the doorway, his eyes murderous. "Step away from her Crowley." Bobby stood behind him, crossing his arms.

The demon inclined his head in greeting, "Hello Castiel." He glanced at the old hunter, "Calling an angel to fight your battles for you Bobby? I expected better"

Bobby squared his shoulders, "What can I say. Call me cautious, but when a feller sees the king of hell parlaying in his kitchen…calling in a little celestial backup doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

Crowley sighed, "No matter. Aiyla and I were just finishing up." He turned back to Cass, "You can keep her for now Castiel, consider her a gift…of continued good faith." He reached out, patting Aiyla's cheek and ignoring Cass's growl of warning. "Take care of that soul Poppet, it's a hot commodity, wouldn't you agree Castiel?"

Cass took a step forward, his eyes beginning to glow blue, and giant shadowy wings unfurling.

Crowley snapped his fingers, and disappeared from sight, leaving Bobby, Cass and Aiyla standing in the kitchen.

Bobby looked at Castiel, "Now why in hell would Crowley give you a gift of good faith?"

Cass shrugged, his wings gone and eyes back to normal. "I…have no idea. Perhaps he is afraid to tangle with an angel so soon after his takeover of hell. I imagine his assent to power was not met with unanimous approval from his subjects.

Bobby frowned, but let it go for the moment. He turned to Aiyla. "You ok kiddo? You're whiter than a sheet.

Finally freed of her invisible restraints, Aiyla yanked her hands off the table, and circled her arms around her middle with hooded eyes. "I…I'm ok."

Bobby narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing a word she said. He opened his mouth to protest. "The hell you ar…"

Castiel cut him off, crossing the distance to Aiyla in a few short strides he raked his gaze over her.

"What happened?"

…Supernatural….

Crowley reclined behind a giant mahogany desk. The heavy collar that had so recently circled his lost pets neck lay on the desk before him. Absently swirling a glass of brandy in one hand, he stared at it; deep in thought. He smiled. Well, he'd played out his hand…now he would just have to wait and see.

"_Poor little poppet, born to the world, Demon, and Human, and Angel all twirled._

_Poor little poppet, hidden from sight…her only companion, a witch of the night._

"_Poor little poppet, curious for more…wandering further than ever before_

_Poor little poppet, with dreams in her head...not ever knowing, they would kill a witch dead._

_Poor little poppet, stolen away, for the price of her freedom, her soul she could pay._

_Poor little poppet, foolish young chit…slave to her blood, forgotten in the pitt. _

_Poor little poppet, afraid and alone, chained like a dog, imprisoned by stone._

_Poor little Poppet, an angels new pet…an angel who owes, a demon a debt. _

_Foolish little poppet, her greatest mistake…is daring to think she controls her own fate."_

Crowley grinned, that was a right brilliant bit of rhyme if he did say so himself. If the whole King of Hell bit fell through…he could always become a poet. Grimacing, he downed his brandy. Ugh…what an awful thought. Hell would freeze over before he let that happen…literally.


End file.
